


Twins of Dark and Light

by Katerinaki



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complete, Force Bond (Star Wars), Gen, Star-crossed, Twins, fudging the timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 08:14:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13050072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katerinaki/pseuds/Katerinaki
Summary: On Jakku, you could die, or you could survive. Breha and her twin brother, Bail, learned that pretty quickly. They survived, until one day they ran into a plucky little droid, his hot-shot pilot master, and suddenly it wasn't just about surviving as they're swept up into a war for the future of the Light, and the galaxy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I mess around with the timeline of the Star Wars universe a little to make this work. If something doesn't seem right, just bear with me. I try to explain along the way, the further I diverge from cannon. This story still sticks pretty close to The Force Awakens, but the next installment will diverge strongly, especially now that The Last Jedi has been released.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there were two apprentices of the Jedi order. Strong in the Force, they were formidable alone, capable of performing feats of strength and skill unheard of since the days of the Old Order. But together, they were an unstoppable force. Task upon task they completed, together winning the admiration of their masters and peers. And as they grew stronger, they grew closer.

But their master grew concerned that their attachment was growing too strong and could affect their judgment. He decided to separate them. He sent the girl away to a distant cause while the boy remained behind to continue on alone. The boy, angered at what he considered a great betrayal, reached out to the Jedi’s enemies, and in one night, destroyed that which his master sought to preserve.

On a distant planet, the girl heard of the boy’s actions, but she already knew in her heart that he had been lost to her, as had the two children he’d gifted her in their last moments together. For this pain, she wept.


	2. Chapter 2

14 years later…

On Jakku, there were two options. Survive, or die. Breha and her brother learned that from a young age. They’d been dumped, left to survive, or die. It was only together that they survived. Bail’s optimism kept them going and Breha’s realism kept them safe. On Jakku, nobody wanted you to survive. Not the junkyard lord Unkar Plutt, who paid them with meager portions for scrap metal and ship parts. Not the other scavengers, who would sooner kill than allow two desert rats to cut in on their wrecks. Nobody wanted anyone to survive, because it meant _they_ could die. Survive, or die.

“Breha? Brey, wake up.”

“Bail, I _am_ up, what do you want?” Breha groaned. She rolled over on the lumpy pile of scavenged upholstery that made her bed. Her twin brother, Bail, leaned over the side of his make-shift hammock, his dark hair flopping into his face, hazel eyes peering across the toppled old, Empire-era walker they’d carved a home out of. It had been a stroke of fortune to come across the old AT-AT, half buried in the sand, and they’d fought over the last six years to keep it.

“I had another dream.”

Breha groaned but her brown eyes met his. “What was this one?”

Bail frowned. “The dark one,” he whispered.

It wasn’t the first time her brother had dreamt of strange things. The dark one had been in his dreams before. Breha would ignore them, except one night when they’d gone to bed with their stomachs empty _again_ , Bail had dreamed of a sandstorm and an Imperial frigate buried not far from Kelvin Ridge. That day the wind battered their walker and it was all they could do to plug up the holes to try to keep the sand out of their home and lungs. Once the storm had passed, they set out with Bail in the lead and there it was, nearly intact. That frigate had fed them for months and Breha started to pay more attention to Bail’s dreams.

“He was...angry. _Furious_ ,” Bail corrected. “Something or maybe someone had escaped him.”

“That’s good,” Breha declared. They didn’t know who the dark one was, but in many of Bail’s dreams he did terrible things, killing and torturing. Anything that made him angry, in Breha’s opinion, was good.

“Anything else?”

Bail sighed, shaking his head. “He didn’t say anything. I couldn’t see anything behind him.”

Breha nodded. “It’ll be alright.” She sat up. Light was just beginning to peek through the porthole over her head as the sun rose over the distant ridge. Already its rays warmed her face and soon it would be unbearably hot.

“We should get moving,” she said, pulling herself up. She grabbed a long strip of thin cloth, wrapping it over her head and shoulders to protect her from the sun and sand. Bail rolled out of his hammock, reaching for his frayed, over-sized jacket. He grabbed a length of metal rod, about as long as his leg, and strapped it to his back as Breha gathered up the collection net and goggles. They slipped out of the AT-AT and around the side between the neck and front legs where a sand drift had built up from the wind overnight. Breha bent down, finding the edge of a tarp and heaved, pulling up the sand-covered tarp to reveal what had at one point been an Imperial swoop. They’d modified it, replacing old parts with working once and Bail had cleverly figured out a way to add a small skiff that let them carry the junk they scavenged and allowed them to bring in bigger parts.

As they climbed on, Breha pulled the goggles over her eyes and Bail tucked his head into her back against the wind. They flew off over the sand, wind and granules whipping their clothes and exposed skin. An hour later, they pulled up on the wreck they’d been slowly combing through the last few days. It was a dreadnaught and absolutely massive, even if a good portion had been smashed on landing. They left their swoop covered once again and began the climb up the dune to the access point Bail had led them to a few days before, just below one of the turrets. It was tiny, but the brother and sister pair were smaller than many scavengers, on account of their age, and slipped inside with just a bit of wiggling.

Inside, the sun had not yet reached and the durasteel retained the cold from the night. Wind howled through the many fissures and openings as a high whistle. A distant groan echoed through the abandoned shell as another part of the massive ship settled further into the sand. They had to climb more, the ship having come to rest at an angle far too steep to be able to simply walk the corridors as they had been designed. It was one of the reasons they still found items to trade.

“This way,” Bail declared, taking the lead and Breha was content to let him. He often just had a way of knowing where the best finds were, even finding things that had been overlooked by more seasoned scavengers. Of the two of them, Breha was more technically-minded, able to extract the pieces and keep them mostly intact, or even repairing something that was damaged so it could be traded. Unkar Plutt was a swindler and a thief, but his was the only junkyard for thousands of miles around. They had no other choice, but at least they could ensure the items they did bring were of the best quality to get the most portions.

“Perfect,” Breha declared as Bail brought them to an old coms room. Many overlooked it, preferring to go for bigger hauls like hyperdrive pieces, but coms equipment was something everyone needed, and was one of the more universal systems when it came to ship repairs. Most coms equipment fit the existing systems with few modifications, even these older pieces, and that made it easy to sell.

They worked most of the day, Bail moving around to seek out new places while Breha stripped anything and everything she could out of the wreck of a com system. By the time they half jogged, half-slid their way down the dune, they had at least three full portions, maybe even four! The sun was high, but Breha let Bail pilot the swoop back to Niima Outpost, the two of them in high spirits and whooping as Bail leapt over sand dunes, the pieces rattling on their skiff.

Niima Outpost was the only sort of settlement of its kind on Jakku. There were a few small villages, but Niima was the largest, and the only one that really saw any consistent visitors. Situated on the western edge of the Goazon Badlands, there were few who willing ventured to it. Most were forced to, as it was the only consistent source of food or water for thousands of miles. That’s where Unkar Plutt ran his “Concession Stand”. He paid scavengers like Breha and Bail in ration packets and then turned around and sold the old pieces to the desperate beings that landed on Jakku, finding themselves stranded and in need of a part. Unkar didn’t always deal in money, either. He had a collection of ships, relics of those who didn’t have the money or supplies to pay for the necessary parts. They didn’t work, of course, but Breha had daydreamed a few times at the washing table of she and Bail climbing aboard, starting her up, and leaving the miserable dust ball of a planet behind.

A fist slammed the table in front of her and one of Unkar’s cronies scolded her, threatening to kick her out if she didn’t finish quickly. Breha went back to furiously scoring, her hands and knuckles raw from the brush and harsh chemicals. Bail shot her a questioning glance across the table, not missing a beat even though Breha could tell he wanted to find out what she’d been musing over. Talking would only get them kicked out of the cleaning station, though.

“The whole place blown to pieces. Not a single one of ‘em survived. Don’t bother goin’ out. Anythin’ of ‘em crazies is ash.”

Breha’s attention tuned into the conversation by one of the Constable’s lieutenants, Streehn, as he gossiped with Unkar’s thugs. A glance across the table showed Bail listening intently as well, even as his hands worked.

“Any idea what did it?” one of the thugs asked.

“Nothin’ good,” Streehn replied. “Troubles all that mumbo-jumbo was ever gonna bring.”

“Hmpf, trouble,” the thug agreed.

“Come on,” Breha said, grabbing their scoured pieces. They joined the line of the other scavengers at the Concession Stand, whom gave them dirty looks. Anyone who took portions was a threat. Nobody but Unkar Plutt knew how many portion packs he had, but nobody wanted to take the risk of losing out.

“What do you think?” Bail murmured.

“Don’t stick your nose in it,” Breha growled under her breath. “Someone wanted them dead, and they made sure of it.”

“But Lor—”

“Was nothing but trouble. Leave it alone.”

They stepped up to the window. Breha was barely able to see over the counter but Bail, already tall and lanky, put their items on the counter, watching carefully as Unkar’s thick, pink fingers handled the scraps.

“I’ll give you two portions,” Unkar grumbled.

“The array _alone_ is worth two portions,” Bail replied firmly.

“The rest of this junk is useless.” Unkar threw the two portions on the counter, sweeping the pieces into his stand. “Take it and go.”

The scavenger behind them shoved forward and Bail only just managed to grab the portion packs before they were jostled away.

“Two portions?” Bail hissed. “You and I _both_ know all that was worth at least double than that!”

“There’s nothing we can do about it now,” Breha reminded him, though her jaw was tight, betraying her own frustration. She was just as angry, but there was truth in her words. With Unkar Plutt, they could do nothing. He held all the food and arguing with him would just mean fewer portions next time. He controlled them all.

So they took their two portions, filled up their water tanks, and left. No point in staying at Niima any longer.

Upon returning to their AT-AT, Breha set about cooking up the protein portion while Bail carefully mixed the carbo-powder with the least amount of water possible, letting the small, green loaf form. He hated portions, but there were no other options. There was no leaving, so Bail sat outside of the AT-AT, his shoulder brushing Breha’s as he gnawed on the dry loaf.

“Why do you think they left us _here_?”

“What?” Breha asked as she sopped up the juice from the protein with the rest of her loaf.

“In the entire galaxy, why do you think our parents left us _here_?”

“Because they didn’t care where they dropped us, only that we were gone.”

Bail sighed, brushing his hair back. It was too long, but after last time he didn’t want to let Breha anywhere near his head with the knife.

“We need to get off this junkyard.”

Breha snorted. “How would you propose we do that? Steal a ship from Unkar Plutt? We’d be smashed to a pulp by his goons, and it wouldn’t make any difference because the last time I checked neither of us knew how to fly!”

“What about the pilots who landed? We could barter passage off.”

“With what? You know the types that land on Jakku. Smugglers, thieves, or worse.”

“I don’t know!” Bail snapped. “I just—I know we can’t stay here forever.”

A wild, metallic squeal pieced the silence of the evening. Breha and Bail were up in seconds, Bail grabbing his short-staff by his feet as they stumbled up the nearby dune towards the commotion. As they crested the dune, Bail recognized a Teedo and his infamous net. He’d cut Breha free from a net like that before. This time it wasn’t Breha, but a small, round orange and white droid. Neither Bail nor Breha had ever seen it before, but it hardly mattered. As long as Teedo didn’t get it.

“Stop!” Breha ordered, already halfway down the dune with Bail hot on her heels.

Teedo warbled at them in a language neither of them really understood.

“Leave it alone!” Breha demanded as Bail brandished his short-staff at Teedo, placing himself firmly between his sister and the droid and the great luggabeast Teedo rode. Breha knelt and pulled the droid free while Bail kept watch. The droid immediately started beeping and whistling wildly.

“Shush!” Bail hissed as he swung at Teedo. He would’ve towered over the smaller being, if he wasn’t seated on the luggabeast. He stared Teedo down, daring him to make a move, but that wasn’t how Teedos worked. Two against one was not the odds he wanted. He chittered back at them, no doubt calling them all manner of unsavory things, but slowly his luggabeast turned and ambled away, leaving his catch behind.

“Great, what now?” Bail muttered to his sister, eyeing the droid. It was definitely some offworlder’s. It was too new to belong to anyone on Jakku. If it belonged to an offworlder, they could get in trouble with Constable Zuvio for stealing. Last scavenger caught stealing had his arm chopped off. He bled out not far from Niima.

Breha shot Bail a pointed glare as she knelt down to look over the little droid.

“Your antenna is bent,” she told it, reaching out to pluck the antenna off. The little ball looked up at her through its black, round sensor as she bent it back into a semblance of shape and reinstalled it.

“There, all better. Designator…BeeBee-Ate?” she read off the droid’s control panel.

The little droid trilled and whistled excitedly about, though Bail didn’t really understand why. They hadn’t really _done_ anything, except fix the stupid antenna. Breha had learned some binary as she learned how to repair broken droids and she seemed to understand BB-8 at least somewhat.

“I’m Breha, and this is my brother Bail. What are you doing out here alone?”

BB-8 trilled, rocking back and forth agitatedly.

“What did he say?” Bail asked.

“He’s looking for his master? Where did you see him last?”

BB-8 hummed and looked…hesitant? How could a droid look hesitant? This little droid was certainly different from the basic lifter droids Unkar used. Those antiques were jerky and slow, only good for lifting heavy equipment and ignoring anything and everything around them.

“What does that mean?” Bail replied frustratedly.

BB-8 whistled and hummed again.

“What’s he saying?”

“I don’t know,” Breha sighed, shaking her head. “I’m not a protocol droid. My binary understanding is terrible.”

BB-8 swiveled its head around, scanning the horizon before it seemed to decide something and activated its holoprojector. An image of a man dressed in a pilot’s flight suit grinned at them.

“Is that his master?” Bail asked, focusing on the pilot’s face. He felt sure he’d have remembered if he saw it, but it didn’t look familiar.

“Yes,” Breha confirmed. “If he’s around, he’d need to go to Niima Outpost. It’s the only settlement. We can go there tomorrow.”

“Wait, you’re not thinking of _keeping_ it,” Bail said.

“No! We can just take him there tomorrow.”

“Do you know what they’d do to us if they saw us with this droid? We’d be gutted just for the portions.”

“We’re not going to sell him to Unkar Plutt! We’ll just give him a ride. After that, we’re done.”

Bail groaned as BB-8 swiveled back and forth, looking between the twins as they argued. Bail had a sinking feeling about all of this. Something was going to happen, and based on the last eight years he’d lived on Jakku, it was doubtful that something would be good.

“Brey, that little droid will be trouble,” Bail declared finally. “I’m sure of it.”

The next morning, they scrounged up a few items quickly, enough to at least earn a portion, maybe two, and drove into Niima Outpost with BB-8 strapped onto the skiff alongside their scraps.

“This is close enough,” Bail declared when they’d reached the outskirts.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Breha retorted, gunning the swoop onwards. They stopped in their usual place and the two of them wrestled BB-8 off the skiff, which was only slightly easier than it had been to get him _on_ it in the first place!

“Alright, this is it,” Bail told the droid. “If your master is still alive, he’ll come through here.”

BB-8 chirped what Bail assumed was binary for “thank you” and rolled off.

“Come on,” Bail said, hefting his sack of parts.

“Why were you so bent on getting rid of Beebee-Ate?”

“Just _look_ at him! Tell me you wouldn’t have beaten that teedo to a pulp to get him. Tell me _any_ of these scavengers and thieves wouldn’t slit our throats just for the portions that droid would be worth.”

Breha sighed, but she didn’t argue. He was right.

“We could’ve at least made sure he made it back to his master.”

“Except who knows if his master is even around, or alive? He’s a pilot. He could be off-world by now, or killed. Don’t you think it’s weird that Tuanal is destroyed and the same day a BB unit just appears? How do you know his ‘master’ wasn’t the one who destroyed the settlement?”

“We don’t,” Breha agreed. “I just…had a good feeling about him.”

“That makes _one_ of us,” Bail replied. “Let’s just get our portions and get out of here.” After everything, Bail’s “bad feeling” was only growing.

They scrubbed quickly and got their one meager portion, punishment for arguing the day before. They were filling their water containers when they heard the same high-pitched squeal from the night before.

“Breha, no!” Bail protested, but his sister was already off.

“Son of kriffing bantha!” Bail swore, running after her. He dodged through stalls, to the owners’ protests, following the shrieks and the lingering feeling of Breha’s trail, until he came on the group of Unkar’s thugs who were facing off against his sister and the droid. Breha had a piece of pipe in her hand and was brandishing it at the thugs who surrounded her, snarling.

“Back off!” Bail shouted, hitting the nearest thug with his short staff and breaking into the circle to stand at his sister’s back.

“Orphan rats!” one of the thugs snarled. “That droid belongs to Unkar!”

“No he doesn’t!” Breha retorted. “Now back off!” She  swung at the thug, but he caught the pipe, wrenching it out of her hands as his companion produced a vibroshiv. It was six to their two and Breha was unarmed. Not good odds anywhere, let alone on Jakku.

“I _knew_ I had a bad feeling about this,” Bail groaned.

“Shut up,” Breha hissed.

“Maybe we’ll just take _both_ of you to Unkar. Some pay handsomely for a pretty little _slave_.”

They lunged and Bail and Breha didn’t stand a chance. It was six to two and the siblings were just fourteen and skinny from years of malnourishment. Still, they fought like a cornered nexu, clawing and biting, lashing out in any way they could until there was nothing left and Breha was trussed up by her wrists and ankles and Bail was left staggering to remain upright, blood pouring from a cut on his brow and cheek, his short staff long gone.

“Too much work,” the lead thug declared, even as he kicked Bail in the gut. Bail gasped for air, doubled over on his knees in the sand. “We got the droid and the girl. Let’s go.”

“No. No! Bail!”

Bail struggled to get up as Breha was thrown over the shoulder of one of the thugs, screaming.

“Bail! Bail! No please don’t!”

“Breha…” Bail gasped. His vision blurred as he found his sister, her tear-streaked face begging, pleading.

“Stop! Don’t do this!” She thrashed, but it was no use.

“Stop—” Bail coughed even as his lungs burned. He pulled himself up, knowing if he didn’t his sister would be lost. He couldn’t be separated from her. She was all he had, and he was all _she_ had. The only thing worth dying for on this Force-forsaken dust ball.

“No. NO!”

Somehow, he summoned a strength from deep inside. It coursed through him, bringing strength and taking the pain as it flowed through him. In a trance, Bail thrust his hands out, like he was going to shove the thugs from behind. Something responded to him, and like a great wind storm, the thugs were thrown forward, Breha with them.

“Breha!” He staggered to her crumpled form. He didn’t understand what he’d done, only that one of those thugs lay motionless nearby, his neck twisted at a sickening angle and Breha was unconscious, a small stream of blood dripping from her nose onto the sand. They couldn’t stay here. Unkar would find them. They’d be dead for sure.

“Breha, Breha wake up, please.”

She didn’t stir, but BB-8 wheeled around her other side.

 “Stay away from her!” Bail snarled, picking up a nearby rock to throw at it. His aim was off, but the droid got the point. It hummed sadly before turning and rolling away. Bail steeled himself, pulling on that same reserve inside himself as he pulled Breha’s limp form over his shoulders, standing by sheer force of will. His side ached from the fight as his lungs burned with every movement and breath, but it didn’t matter now. He staggered back to the swoop, gathering eyes as he left. He laid Breha as gently as possible on the skiff and pulled the tarp over her as protection. He made it back to the AT-AT, fighting unconsciousness himself. Only once he got her on her bed did he relax into his own hammock, his head spinning and vision closing in. His last thought before he collapsed was that they’d forgotten their water containers. There wasn’t enough at the AT-AT. They’d have to go back. Tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

On a distant ship, lightyears from Jakku, a dark figure knelt before a twisted, grotesque mask. The figure wore a mask of his own, black and expressionless. A monster, many called him. They had no understanding of true monsters.

Kylo Ren, Master of the Knights of Ren and Commander of the First Order, had retired to his meditation chamber suddenly and without explanation. He rarely gave explanation to anyone, which would perhaps be why General Hux hated him. Or perhaps, it was because Kylo Ren was a favorite of the Supreme Leader, one of his chosen acolytes. His powers gave him true freedom, and Hux could not stand the idea of someone on the ship who _didn’t_ follow his every order.

The truth was, Kylo Ren had felt a disturbance in the Force. Hux wasn’t Force-sensitive; he couldn’t understand. But the awakening had been so strong, full of untapped rage and passion. Without a doubt Ren’s master had felt it as well. This new Force-user was untrained, but powerful, and would make a great addition should he prove trainable. And if he didn’t, it was Ren’s mission to ensure the Force-sensitive never fell into the hands of the enemy, the Resistance.

Ren stood in one fluid motion, stepping out of his meditation chamber where two white-armored stormtroopers awaited him.

“FN-2187.”

“Sir,” the one on the right answered, snapping to attention.

“Inform Captain Phasma I want a patrol sent to Jakku immediately. Scout the planets. I will join you shortly.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You’re looking for a boy. No more than sixteen.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ren wanted to be there first, but the Supreme Leader placed high priority in finding something of greater value, the last Jedi knight, Luke Skywalker.

 

When Bail woke, his head was throbbing and his side burned. The AT-AT was sweltering and the sun poured in through the cockpit and portholes. It was far later than they usually woke, but Bail couldn’t be sure what time it was. As he rolled out of his hammock, he spotted Breha, asleep still. She looked peaceful and Bail breathed a sigh of relief as he watched her chest rise and fall and he saw the color in her face.

“Breha?”

She groaned, her hand coming up to her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Are you alright?”

“My head hurts. Are you okay? Was it another dream?”

“Don’t you remember?”

“A bit. What—what happened?”

“I—I thought I would lose you. They tried to take you from me, all because of that _stupid droid_!”

Breha frowned. “Beebee-Ate? Is he okay? Where is he?”

“Gone if he knows what’s good for him,” Bail growled.

“What are you talking about? Unkar—he…?”

“He sent his goons after the droid and you tried to interfere.”

Breha frowned, forcing his mind back to the incident. “I remember…” Her eyes went wide suddenly as they travelled over his bruised and bloodied face, down to the stiff way he held his ribs.

“Bail, what happened? What did you _do_?”

He didn’t know. Still, he couldn’t figure it out.

“I saved us,” he replied tersely.

“You—”

“They were going to take you away from me. I won’t _ever_ let that happen.”

They sat together, Bail kneeling by Breha’s bed. Neither spoke a word as the gravity of the situation sank in. Eventually, Breha spoke.

“You hurt them without touching them.”

“It won’t happen again.”

“But, Bail you hurt them. Unkar won’t be happy. What are we going to do?”

Bail didn’t know.

“We have to go back today. The water containers were left behind. I forgot them.”

“You got us to safety.”

“I was an idiot.”

“You were brave and strong. And you’re my brother.” She reached over, grabbing his hand. “I love you. We’ll figure this out together.”

But that was far easier to say from the safety of the AT-AT. They waited a day, but eventually what supplies they had were depleted. Bail and Breha’s stomachs rumbled from lack of food and they had run out of water that morning. There was no choice now. They had to go into Niima.

The siblings gathered what few trinkets they could before piloting their swoop into the outpost. It was quiet, and they soon learned why. No sooner had they entered the outpost did they see the white-armored stormtroopers. Bail and Breha exchanged a worried glance. Bail pulled his hood up over his head while Breha wrapped her scarf tighter, partially covering her face. It was never good to draw the attention of the First Order. They slipped into the outpost, hurrying towards Unkar’s stand. Heads down, they were nearly there when Breha turned the corner and slammed into someone.

“Sorry,” she apologized quickly.

“That’s alright.”

The twins froze. Nobody in Niima would’ve responded like that. He should’ve cursed at them, usually in some alien language. As Bail really looked at the stranger, he saw the sturdy, yet well-made clothes and the brown jacket, and the face he’d seen before.

“You’re him.”

The stranger immediately looked suspicious. He glanced around for eavesdroppers. “What do you mean?” he murmured.

“You’re Beebee-Ate’s master,” Breha said. “He showed us your face.”

The pilot looked suddenly hopeful.

“You’ve seen Beebee-Ate?”

“Yeah. We brought him here a—” Breha stopped, clamming up. “Who are you?”

“My name is Poe Dameron. Where is Beebee-Ate?”

“We don’t know,” Breha admitted. “There was trouble.”

Poe Dameron’s eyes glanced to the still healing cut on his eyebrow and the bruising visible on Breha’s cheek.

“You got a name, kid?”

Bail hesitated. He didn’t know Poe Dameron from Luke Skywalker, and it couldn’t be more coincidence that the stormtroopers were wandering around Niima Outpost and Poe suddenly turned up, just as Tuanal was destroyed when Beebee-Ate arrived. This was dangerous, and not something they should be getting involved with.

Breha seemed to be having the same thoughts.

“Who _are_ you?” she demanded.

“I’m a pilot. I’m just passing through and I’m trying to find my droid.”

“I’m sure you are,” Breha retorted. “And my brother and I are just on vacation, getting a tan. A few days ago a village was destroyed and then your droid shows up. And now there are stormtroopers crawling all over this place—”

All three of them turned as a patrol passed by, making themselves smaller and trying to blend in with the tattered scenery. Poe seemed nervous until they were gone.

“I need to find my droid and get out of here.”

“You don’t work for the First Order, do you?” Breha said.

“I never said I did,” Poe replied. “Listen, I’ll make you a deal. You help me find Beebee-Ate, and I’ll take you with me when I leave Jakku.”

“What makes you think we want to leave?” Bail retorted.

“Judging by your eye and her cheek, you came across some trouble. But if you love it here, I won’t _make_ you leave. It’s your choice but I’d choose fast.”

Another stormtrooper patrol was on its way and it was time they got their water and portions and made themselves scarce before someone decided to try and endear themselves to Unkar.

What Poe was offering was the chance of a lifetime, likely the only one they’d ever get. To leave and never come back? Breha knew they wouldn’t have a better opportunity, and deep inside, Bail begrudgingly admitted the same. And taking this risk now, finding this droid, it was their best chance.

“Alright,” Breha said at last. “We’ll help you. But do you have a ship?”

“I was planning on taking _that_ one,” Poe replied, grinning as he nodded towards the outskirts and Unkar’s stolen ships. Breha groaned at the one he pointed out.

“ _That_ ship? That one’s garbage. You don’t even know if it will _fly_!”

“She’ll fly,” Poe replied with an inordinate amount of confidence. “There’s more to her than meets the eye. We—”

He cut off as they heard the low whine of a ship in the distance, but coming in fast. All three of them spotted the black shuttle as it descended through the atmosphere, headed straight for the outpost. It was unmistakably First Order and the closer it came, the more Bail’s stomach churned and he knew he didn’t want to find out who was on the shuttle. He had a good idea who it was already.

“Time to go,” he declared. “Me and you are gonna find your droid. My sister is going to make sure the garbage can actually fly.”

“She’ll fly,” Poe insisted.

“ _I’ll_ see about that,” Breha nodded to both of them, adjusted her shawl, and slipped away.

“Alright, let’s find your droid.” Bail slipped through the stalls, skirting around Unkar Plutt’s Concession Stand. If Poe hadn’t found the droid by now, there was one likely place it would be, in Unkar’s storehouse. Scavengers were shot if they tried to go inside. All of Unkar’s best prizes were kept in there, displayed only for those with the credits. Bail had never been inside, of course, but with the stormtroopers around Unkar’s thugs weren’t focused on something they knew was safe. Only one guard stood outside.

“If your droid is still in Niima, he’s there,” Bail told Poe, pointing towards the corroded storehouse. There was one guard at the door, a human man with a shaved head and markings up the side of his neck. He wasn’t particularly big, but he was bigger than Bail and Bail had lost his short staff in the confrontation a few days before.

“Alright. I can handle the guard,” Poe said. “But I don’t have a splicer to get us through that door.”

“I’ll take care of that,” Bail replied. “Ready when you are.”

They slipped around duracrates, staying out of sight. Poe was pretty sneaky for an off-world pilot. Bail flanked the guard with Poe opposite.

“Hey poodoo!” Bail shouted, standing from his hiding spot suddenly.

The guard fumbled for his blaster, giving Poe the chance the sneak up behind him, slamming one of the duracrete lids across his back. The guard crumbled, eyes rolling back into his skull. Poe gathered up his blaster while Bail headed for the controls. They’d come across plenty of locked doors in their time on Jakku, but never a splicer. Bail breathed, placing his hand over the lock and focusing. If anyone asked how he did it, he couldn’t say. But as Bail’s fingers glidded over the worn keys, he could feel something. A hint, an echo of a combination. His fingers flew over the panel, entering the code. The door slid open with a screech, jamming only part of the way.

“How did you—?”

“Come on,” Bail cut Poe off, slipping inside. It was a scavenger’s treasure trove inside. Everything from hyperdrive generator parts to fully assembled astromech droids. All of it was outdated, Imperial-era things, but they’d do and were worth thousands of portions. Bail’s mouth salivated at the thought.

No sooner had they opened the door did they hear the familiar whistles and beeps.

“Beebee-Ate?” Poe hurried through the warehouse, Bail just behind him until they spotted the little droid in a cage.

“Beebee-Ate, buddy it’s good to see you!” Poe explaimed, kneeling by the cage and fumbling with the latch. Bail kept his eyes open, scanning the storehouse. The droid was making far too much noise as it whistled and chirped, greeting its long-lost master.

“Sorry to spoil this, but we have to go,” Bail reminded them. Breha should have the ship ready by now and it was only a matter of time before Unkar or Constable Zuvio noticed the unconscious guard and the open door.

“Come on, buddy, we’re getting you out of here.”

The three of them slipped out of the storehouse and were in the market before everything went south. It was BB-8. He stood out like a sore thumb where everything was at least thirty years old.

“You two, halt!” the stormtroopers ordered.

“Run!” Bail shouted, taking off with the others hot on his trail. He led them through the stalls, weaving and dodging the wares and fists of the stall owners. Blaster shots pinged over their heads as they dodged a corner, headed for the ship.

‘Please have it ready,’ Bail thought, praying that Breha would somehow hear. As they slid around the last stall and the garbage ship came into view, Bail saw the thrusters fire up and thanked the Maker for clairvoyant sisters.

“Come on!” Bail shouted, sprinting for the ship. His gut wrenched and he suddenly dove aside as the ground in front of him exploded. The fighters screamed overhead as they overshot, but they were circling back around. A jerk on the back of his shirt had Bail up again, running alongside Poe. His heart pounded and his breath burned in his chest and injured ribs. As they neared, the garbage ship’s ramp dropped and they sprinted aboard.

“Gunner position down there,” Poe said, as he ran for the cockpit. Bail didn’t question him, instead climbing down the ladder into the gunner’s seat. The whole thing swiveled and rotated with the turret as Bail fumbled for the headset.

“…you hear me down there?” Poe’s voice crackled through the speaker.

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“Hold on tight, this is gonna be rough.” The ship lurched and the ground shot away. Bail had to grab onto the seat as the turret swung.

“Kriffing, son of a—”

“Bail!” Breha screeched through the com.

“I’m gonna get us out of here but feel free to fire back,” Poe said. The ship suddenly rolled as blaster bolts screamed past the underside. Bail bit back the curses as he grabbed the controls and swiveled the turret. Targets came up on the computer as TIE fighters came into view. Bail had never shot anything in his life, but how hard could it be? He hit the button, firing and red bolts screamed towards the TIEs. They swerved, avoiding them and Bail grit his teeth, aiming again. The ship dove, causing his shots to go wide, but suddenly they were in the shell of an Imperial juggernaut.

“What are you doing?” Breha screamed.

“Getting us some cover,” Poe replied. “Alright kid, next corner I’m gonna line you up. Ready?”

“Yeah,” Bail replied, his knuckles white on the controls. The ship suddenly banked hard and the TIEs were caught right in his sights. He fired and was rewarded with an explosion as a fighter crashed.

“I got one!” Bail exclaimed.

“Don’t get cocky, there’s two more,” Poe warned as they broke cover. Bail brought his turret in line again and this time he knew he had him right before he fired. Another explosion, another one down.

“One more left, let’s get him so we can get outta here.”

But Bail’s readout lit up as green bolts flashed across his turret, hitting the base and causing it to jam.

“It’s been hit!”

Poe cursed. “Alright, I’m gonna try and out maneuver him.”

But as Bail saw the TIE come into view, he thought back to the other day, that energy, how the thugs had been thrown off their feet. He thought of his sister in the cockpit, how she was in danger as he reached for that power again.

“Keep it steady,” he said.

“Are you crazy?”

“I have it, just keep the ship steady.”

Grumbling answered through the com, but the ship leveled out. Bail focused on the TIE as it came back into view. The pilot was no doubt locking onto them.

“Come on,” Bail growled, reaching out with his hand and summoning that energy. Like a flood, it flowed through him, down his arm and smashed into the TIE, sending it careening into the sand.

“Woohoo! Good job! Now let’s get off this junkyard!”

The ship turned upwards, climbing through the atmosphere. Bail clambered out of the gunner’s position to join Poe and his sister in the cockpit.

“There’s a compressor and a fuel pump,” Breha warned as Bail took the seat behind her.

“What kinda sleemo would put a compressor on the Millennium Falcon?” Poe whined as his hands flew over the controls with practiced ease.

Breha and Bail froze. They’d heard that name spoken with awed reverence by nearly every smuggler that came through Niima Outpost. It was the fastest ship ever, but not only that, it made the Kessel Run in just 14 parsecs!”

“ _This_ is the Millennium Falcon?” Breha blurted out.

“No doubt,” Poe replied. “Recognized it as soon as I saw her.”

“Then do you know Han Solo? The smuggler?” Bail asked. Everyone knew the Millennium Falcon belonged to Han Solo.

“Not personally. But I’ve heard all the stories too. Buckle in, we’re about to make the jump to lightspeed.”

Breha and Bail braced as Poe engaged the hyperdrive. The stars stretched and elongated until they blended into a swirling mass of color. Poe sat back and relaxed, swiveling the pilot’s chair.

“Alright, I’ve helped you and I think it’s safe to say none of us are First Order. So how about you tell me your names?”

Poe was right. He’d done what he said he would, and they’d successfully made it past the First Order.

“I’m Bail, and this is my sister, Breha.”

Bail thought he saw some strange look in Poe’s eye, but it was gone immediately.

“Nice to finally have a name for a face,” Poe joked.

“Where are you taking us?” Breha asked.

“I have to get Beebee-Ate back to the Resistance. He has some information that they need. After that, I’ll take you wherever you want to go.”

 An open ticket anywhere? Neither of them much wanted to get involved with the Resistance, but an open ticket was too good to pass up. Bail’s mind already wheeled at the possibilities. Coruscant, Nar Shaddaa, any of those big cities they could disappear and start a new life, maybe even with a job that paid in money instead of portions!

“Wherever,” Bail repeated.

“As long as it is in the known galaxy,” Poe confirmed, looking amused.

“Alright, you have a deal.” He reached out to shake Poe’s hand when there was a sudden thump and alarms went off.

“It’s the hyperdrive,” Poe said, jumping out of his seat and rushing from the cockpit. Breha grabbed a box of tools from one of the compartments near the co-pilot’s chair and the two of them hurried after him. Poe found the problem pretty quick. The panel was ajar from the blowout and he and Bail heaved it open. Poe was about to jump down when Breha beat him to it.

“It’s the motivator,” she called, accompanied by some banging. “Harris wrench,” she ordered, pointing to the kit. Bail fumbled it open, finding the right wrench and passing it down.

“You’re a mechanic?” Poe commented, watching the siblings work.

“If something breaks, someone’s gotta fix it,” Breha replied, her voice echoing from the maintenance pit. “You can’t just buy a new one on Jakku. Bonding tape.”

Bail found the tape and passed it down. The alarm stopped and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

“That should hold it for a while,” Breha declared as she clambered out of the pit with Bail and Poe’s help.

“How long?” Poe asked.

“We should probably stop somewhere to get it fixed before crossing the galaxy.”

“Half the systems here are controlled by the First Order,” Poe sighed.

“Well we can always hope the patch doesn’t break and flood the ship with poisonous gas,” Breha replied dryly.

Someone coughed, but it wasn’t Poe, Breha, or Bail. They all froze, the only sound in the ship that of the hyperdrive humming. Bail closed his eyes, listening, casting out his senses. This was a smuggling ship. There could be hundreds of hidden compartments, but Bail only had to find the right one. He heard shallow breathing and the creaking of some type of armor. His eyes shot open and landed just two panels from the open pit. Poe and Breha followed his gaze. Breha met his eyes with a silent question. Are you sure?

Bail nodded. They padded carefully to surround the panel, Bail and Breha bending to lift the cover while Poe leveled his blaster. With a nod from Poe, they heaved.

“Don’t move!” Poe ordered.

“Whoa! Hey, don’t shoot!”

“A stormtrooper!” Breha spat. They all recognized the unmistakable white armor, though it was strange to see without the helmet.

“How did you get on this ship?” Poe demanded, not lowering his blaster, but not firing either.

“Stop, just, I’m not here for trouble,” the stormtrooper insisted. His dark-skinned face showed his fear and his eyes darted between the three of them as he stood with his hands raised.

“Did you sabotage the ship?” Poe growled.

“Sabotage? No! I don’t know anything about ships.”

“Then how did you get here? How did you know we’d take this one?”

“I heard you talking in the market. You were going to escape and I thought it was my best chance, so I stowed away.”

Poe seemed to relax a bit. “You ran away? Nobody leave the First Order.”

“I did. I don’t want to kill for them. It’s wrong.”

“So you deserted.”

“Your ship was my one shot. I needed a pilot, and I found one.”

“What’s your name?”

“FN-2187.”

FN—what?”

The stormtrooper shrugged. “It’s the only name they ever gave me.”

“Well I ain’t using it,” Poe declared. He lowered the blaster and reached down to pull the stormtrooper out of the compartment.

“FN, huh?”

The stormtrooper nodded.

“Finn. We’ll call you Finn. That alright?”

“Finn?” The stormtrooper looked surprised. “Finn.” He seemed to roll it around his tongue before nodding. “I like it.” He grinned.

“I’m Poe Dameron, this is Bail and Breha.”

Finn nodded to them, but neither of the twins were as trusting as Poe.

“That’s it?” Breha asked. “He gives some story about deserting, so you give him a name and we’re all friends?”

“We’re travelling on a ship at lightspeed,” Poe argued. “What would you rather do?”

“Put him in a pod and jettison him towards the nearest First Order system.”

“You can’t,” Finn blurted out. “Not the First Order. I won’t go back.”

“It’s alright because we’re not going to _do that_ ,” Poe replied firmly.

“This isn’t just your decision,” Breha retorted.

“I’m the pilot, so yes, it is.”

“Well if it wasn’t for me, there would be pieces of us in twelve different systems by now!”

“Brey.”

Breha paused at her brother’s use of her nickname.

“I don’t like it either,” he said quietly, “but I don’t think he’s lying.”

Bail’s soft declaration hung over the ship’s hold, a bit of hope for the fugitive stormtrooper.

“Look,” Finn said at last, “I don’t want trouble, and I _don’t_ want to go to the Resistance either. You said you have to stop for repairs. Let me off there and I won’t be a problem anymore.

Poe made to protest but Bail beat him to it.

“Deal,” he declared. Poe sighed and Breha huffed before stomping off, making her dissatisfaction understood. Bail sighed and followed her.

“Come on,” Poe said. “You’ll want to get out of that armor. Especially if you want to disappear.”

“What’s with them?” Finn asked as Poe led him back to the living quarters to try to find something other than his stormtrooper gear.

“They have trust issues,” Poe replied as he rustled through the compartments. He didn’t find much. Most of what had been in the Millennium Falcon had been thrown out or scavenged when it was stolen. But there was an old tunic that looked like it’d probably fit Finn, and an old brown jacket that would help against the cold of space.

“I don’t blame them,” Poe muttered as he helped Finn strip away his armor piece-by-piece. “If they are who I think they are, then they have plenty of reason not to trust anyone.”

“Who do you think they are?” Finn asked, struggling with an arm piece one-handed. Poe reached out and wrenched open the clasp.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. And it’s probably better you don’t know. Especially since we’re dropping you off at the next neutral system.”

Finn looked disappointed, but nodded. “Probably right.” He pulled on the old jacket and the transformation was complete.

“Wouldn’t even know you used to be a stormtrooper,” Poe declared.

“This feels weird,” Finn replied, twisting and bending like he hadn’t been able to in his armor. He nodded down at the pile of plastoid.

“What should we do with that? Jettison it?”

“Nah, wouldn’t want to pollute space. Besides, you never know when stormtrooper armor might come in handy. I’ll keep it, if you don’t mind.”


	4. Chapter 4

Kylo Ren snarled as he made one final slash, completing his utter destruction of the unfortunate com panel. The mission to Jakku had been an utter failure. Not only did the Force-sensitive escape, but so did vital information in regards to Starkiller base, the First Order’s new super-weapon that was almost finished construction. The loss of the information was purely Hux’s fault. It had been his task to recover the stolen intelligence and he’d let the Resistance pilot and the droid escape. _With_ Ren’s Force-sensitive, on board the very ship Ren hated most in the galaxy, the Millennium Falcon.

He hadn’t been expecting to see his father’s old ship on Jakku. Especially since his intelligence put Han Solo halfway across the galaxy, hunting rathtars for the sadistic King Prana. If the Force were kind, it would allow Han Solo to be eaten by the damned monsters and save him the trouble. But the Force wasn’t kind and Han Solo would likely survive, no doubt with the help of his furred babysitter, the wookie Chewbacca.

The moment he’d seen the ship, his hand had been stayed. He could’ve blasted them out of the sky. He should’ve. His excuse to Hux and the Supreme Leader had been his desire to bring the Force-sensitive into the Knights of Ren as his apprentice. Hux had been livid, but the Supreme Leader muzzled him, agreeing with Ren’s discretion. The truth, Ren would only admit deep in the bowels of his private chamber. He’d frozen out of weakness. Because for a brief moment, he thought he _could_ feel the familiar Force-presence of his father on board, and by the time he realized it didn’t matter whether it was or wasn’t, the Millennium Falcon had been away.

“I need your guidance,” Ren murmured, kneeling before the charred, distorted helmet, the only remnant he had of his grandfather, the great Sith Lord Darth Vader.

“Speak to me,” he begged. “Show me how to remove this weakness.”

But the helmet’s remains were silent, as they had been for some time. Even his grandfather was disgusted with his weakness. What heart he’d had was torn out long ago, killed when Kylo Ren had risen. But the Light side of the Force still taunted him, still beckoned, and it was all Ren could do to take hold of the Darkness and draw it around himself to block out the light.

“Sir?” his commlink crackled.

“What is it?” Ren growled, furious at the interruption.

“We found a match on the ship that escaped Jakku. They’ve dropped out of hyperspace.”

Finally, a chance to redeem himself. He would _not_ allow them to slip through his fingers this time.

“I’ll be right there,” Ren said. He picked up his helmet, placing it over black hair and brown eyes. Not many in the First Order had ever seen Kylo Ren unmasked, and he intended to keep it that way.

“I will be worthy of your legacy,” Kylo Ren told the twisted mask, before he left.

 

Takodana was one of the last neutral holdouts. They made it that way, largely by the work of Maz Kanata. Maz had run a canteen and workshop out of a few hundred-thousand year old temple for as long as anyone could remember. It was a good place to go to escape the First Order _and_ the Republic, but most people went there, simply to not be bothered. As they descended into the verdant atmosphere, the twins from Jakku couldn’t ever remember seeing so much water…ever! That quantity just didn’t exist on Jakku, and trees were a distant concept, described to them by others, but the real thing had been far superior.

“Are _most_ systems like this?” Breha asked.

“A lot of them,” Poe conceded, “but every system is different. We’ll be alright here. We’ll get the repairs done and Finn can get passage to the Outer Rim or wherever.”

“Yeah, Outer Rim,” Rinn agreed quickly. A look at his expression showed he too was enthralled by the beauty of Takodana.

They landed in a small clearing not far from Maz’s establishment.

“This ship will turn some heads,” Poe explained. “Better if fewer people see it. Breha, you have the list of parts?”

“Got it,” Breha replied.

“Alright. When we go in, act casual and don’t stare at anyone too long. There are plenty here like us who would rather _not_ be recognized.”

Poe led the way into the old temple that housed Maz’s canteen. Inside, the music played and creatures of every shape, size, and color mingled. It was a lesson in galactic diversity. Breha and Bail tried to keep their heads down and stuck close to Poe, but Finn stared, slack-jawed, at it all.

“Stop that!” Breha hissed, elbowing him in the ribs.

“Ow!” Finn protested.

“Stop acting like a _stoopa_ and keep your head down. We’re trying _not_ to draw attention!”

Finn’s staring had certainly earned a few suspicious gazes.

“Sorry, “Finn murmured, keeping his head down as they stepped up to the bar.

“Hey Maz,” Poe greeted a short, orange-skinned alien with focusing goggles over his eyes, making them look bigger than they likely were.

“Dameron,” Maz greeted him. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. Not getting into trouble again, hm?”

Poe actually blushed and Breha wondered what sort of _trouble_ Poe had been in last time.

“Nothing like that, Maz,” Poe reassured her. “We’re just having some hyperdrive problems and I was hoping you might have the parts we need.”

“Most likely. Come down and we’ll find it.”

“Actually, if you could take my friends down, I need to make a secure com-call.”

Maz eyed Bail, Breha, and Finn. She lingered on Bail and Breha a second longer and there was a hint of _something_ before Maz nodded. “This way.”

Maz led them down a set of stairs and down again, deeper into the temple. The lights faded and the music from the canteen was just a distant echo.

“What type of ship?” Maz asked suddenly.

“C-Corellian,” Breha replied. “YT-model.”

Maz stopped suddenly and Breha almost tripped over her in the low light.

“The Millennium Falcon. You’ve recovered it!”

“Yes,” Breha choked out. “From a junker on Jakku.”

Maz smiled, looking fondly at them. “I should expect nothing less, I suppose. What do you need?”

“A motivator cooling coil, and three conduits. And some more bonding tape.”

“Should be easy enough,” Maz shrugged turning again and continuing down the corridor. Bail and Breha exchanged a suspicious glance, before hurrying to catch up.

“What did you mean by ‘I should expect nothing less’?” Breha asked.

Maz sighed. “I have lived very long and heard a great many things, much of which is not mine to tell. All I will say is that everything has a way of revealing itself in its time. The Force ebbs and flows as it will.”

“The Force,” Bail scoffed. “That’s just a bunch of garbage.”

Maz stopped again, but this time they were a little more prepared. She looked at Bail pointedly.

“My dear boy,” she said softly, and almost affectionate. “You know that is not true. This way.”

Maz led them into a room, activating glow panels around the perimeter. Various pieces from a hundred different hyperdrives were stacked neatly around the room. It almost looked like Unkar’s storehouse, except there was some semblance of order and everything looked, if not new, then at least in good shape.

“Whoa, where did you _get_ all this?” Finn asked. He reached out to touch a part, but a pointed warning glare from Maz stayed his hand.

“I have been here a long time, and I will admit, I am a bit of a hoarder. Take what you need, no charge.”

“We don’t need charity,” Breha insisted.

“I don’t give charity, dear girl. This is a favor owed. Take what you need.”

Bail and Breha knew better than to argue. Breha quickly darted around the room, collecting the items from her list. They were all there, and for the coil, Breha even had a _selection_. They put the items in a sack from the Falcon, the extra bonding tape the last item.

“That’s everything,” Breha declared.

“Not quite,” Maz said. She held a small, wooden box in her hands. “One last thing.” She opened the box, revealing a small, metal tube.

“What is it?”

“It belongs to a friend and has been in my possession too long. Take it.”

But Bail didn’t like the feeling he had. Something inside told him whatever this trinket was, it would bring them no good. Breha reached out to take the item but Bail grabbed her wrist.

“No, don’t,” he urged.

“What’s wrong?” Breha asked.

“We don’t want it,” Bail told Maz.

Maz sighed. “I was hoping you would deliver this safely to its owner.”

“And just who is the owner?” Bail demanded rudely.

“ _Bail_ ,” Breha chastised. Maz had been generous in giving them the parts, even if her behavior had been a bit eccentric. It was better not to risk offending her.

But Maz never got to answer. The floor pitched and the roof rumbled as a distant blast shook the temple.

“Not here!” Maz croaked. She turned and ran back for the canteen. Bail and Finn were just behind her, but Breha hesitated before grabbing the wooden box and stuffing it into the sack. Maz obviously thought the owner would be where they were going, and although Bail didn’t feel right about it, and Breha was used to following Bail’s feelings, something about the item felt familiar. Perhaps Poe would know what to do with it, or someone at the Resistance.

By the time Breha made it up to the canteen, the whole place was shaking. Beings raced in every direction, but Breha couldn’t see Bail, Finn, or Poe anywhere. She followed the crowd outside and had to duck as a TIE fighter opened fire right over her head. The stone façade crumbled and Breha threw herself out of the way, landing hard. She rolled to her feet, her legs pumping and heart racing as she ran towards the clearing where they’d left the Falcon. She knew that Bail and the others would’ve likely gone there to escape. She had to get there, but there were stormtroopers everywhere and Breha had to duck and weave to avoid having her head blown off. She’d never been in a battle before, but she was sure it would’ve been easier with a blaster in hand.

And explosion went off behind her and Breha was thrown off her feet. She hit the rocks hard, her grip slipping on the sack and its contents went flying. The wooden box broke open, the silver tube tumbling out. Breha’s chest hurt and her ears were ringing as she rolled over with a groan. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, just in time to see a stormtrooper with some kind of energized club spot her. Breha’s hands reached out and fumbled over the silver tube. It wasn’t much, but there wasn’t a blaster in reach. She grabbed it, rolling to her feet as the stormtrooper charged, club overhead, ready to crush her. Breha’s thumb found the activator almost instinctively and as the club was coming down, she pressed it.

A blue energy blade sprang from the end of the tube, impaling the stormtrooper. Breha heard his grunt of surprise and pain before he fell dead at her feet. She gasped, wide-eyed and terrified as she stared at the glowing blue blade and the dead stormtrooper. There wasn’t time to panic as blaster bolts exploded around her. Breha turned, batting one away with a wild swing. The bolt ricocheted and slammed into the stormtrooper who’d fired, leaving a black scorch mark across his helmet.

Breha still didn’t see Bail, but the blue glowing blade in her hand seemed to serve as a beacon for the stormtroopers. She swung at the, hacking, slashing, and dodging blaster bolts as they surrounded her. Breha knew she was in trouble, but for some reason, the stormtroopers didn’t seem to want to just finish it. Their shots went wide and they circled her, trying to close in. Breha took as many of them down as she could, the blue blade carving through the armor like it was flimsiplast. Her arms burned and she could barely draw breath. She’d only ever fought like this when it had been the difference between life and death.

Breha felt someone coming up behind her and she spun, swinging her blade with a feral yell. But it never fell. Towering over her, having stepped out of one of Bail’s nightmares, was the dark one.

He was just as Bail had described him, hooded and cloaked, the faceless mask staring unblinking down at her. His hand was outstretched and Breha couldn’t move her arms, couldn’t finish the swing that would’ve cleaved him in half.

“You?” His voice was deep and garbled through the mask. Breha struggled, trying to wrench away, but some invisible force held her in place. In that moment, she believed in the Force that had been part of distant legends, and she hated it.

“Let go of me!” Breha roared. She made one last attempt at breaking away, pulling on something deep inside. With a wild snarl and a great heave, she was free. She didn’t waste time, swinging again. Only this time, instead of nothing her blue blade was intercepted by a crackling red. The dark one spun his own blade, and Breha felt the hilt wrenched from her hand. It flew through the air before changing direction and landing in the dark one’s hand. He looked at it a moment before his head shot up.

“Bring her,” he ordered, and the stormtroopers closed in. But Breha was not going anywhere without a fight. She kicked the first stormtrooper, grabbing another’s outstretched hand and yanking him with all her might into another. She turned to knee the next when suddenly an enormous pressure pressed in on her mind, darkness flooding her senses. Her knees buckled as her vision faded and she collapsed, unconscious.

 

Bail was in a panic as he followed Poe and Finn through the firefight.

“Breha!” he yelled, but he couldn’t see her anywhere. Somehow they’d been separated in the initial bombardment and by the time Bail and Finn had found Poe, the canteen had been a crush towards the exits.

Poe was holding his own and even Finn had scrounged up a blaster from a fallen stormtrooper and was taking out his former comrades with impunity. If Bail needed any more proof Finn had defected, this was it. They dodged across the battleground, weaving but steadily returning to where they’d left the Falcon. Bail kept his eyes open for his sister, but he also prayed they’d arrive and find Breha had returned to the Falcon ahead of them.

“Traitor!” a nearby stormtrooper shouted, lunging at Finn’s unguarded back. Bail intercepted, slamming his shoulder into the stormtrooper’s gut and tackling him to the ground. It was a mad scramble for the trooper’s blaster, but Bail grabbed it first and fired a shot into the trooper’s chest plate. The bolt left a fist-size hole and the trooper slumped, dead.

“Come on!” Finn said, grabbing Bail’s arm and pulling him after them. Bail felt numb as he took a few more pot shots, always at troopers with their backs turned or distracted by one of Maz’s other patrons. They fought around the wall, but as they were to turn it, blaster fire opened up and Finn was only just able to pull Poe back to safety.

“Thanks,” Poe said. “That’s a lot of stormtroopers. I don’t know how much longer we can hold out.”

“Hold out for what?”

Poe never got a chance to answer as they were flanked. Finn and Bail ducked in time, but Poe let out a cry of pain as his shoulder was clipped. They crouched behind some fallen rubble. A burn stretched across Poe’s shoulder, ripping through his jacket and scorching the skin beneath.

“I’m alright,” Poe groaned, though the pain on his face clearly said otherwise.

“You’re hit,” Finn retorted. “And we’re outnumbered.”

“Just wait a little…longer…” Poe grimaced.

“For _what_?”

Explosions ripped overhead, but they fell short of where the trio were crouched. A second later, an X-wing fighter broke from the clouds, flipping to come around and attack the stormtroopers again.

Poe grinned. “That.”

Bail slid under Poe’s shoulder and they staggered upright, Finn covering them. There was no need, however. The stormtroopers were in full retreat at the arrival of the Resistance. Finn and Poe whooped as an X-wing circled overhead, taking out a First Order TIE fighter. Within minutes, the battle was over, the stormtroopers either dead or in full retreat.

A carrier flew in and landed on the nearby beach. Bail and Poe hobbled towards it with Finn just behind them. The ramp lowered and Bail’s jaw dropped as a much older version of his sister stepped out.

“General,” Poe greeted her, trying to stand more upright.

“Commander Dameron, thank you for your warning,” the woman Poe called ‘General’ replied. Medics hurried out from the carrier and one of them took Poe off Bail’s shoulder, nodding to him as he led Poe towards the transport. The General nodded to Finn in thanks before her eyes fell to Bail. Her brown eyes, the same as Breha’s, widened in shock. Bail was struck dumb as his mind raced with a million possibilities, each more far-fetched than the next. The General opened her mouth and spoke just one word.

“Bail.”

“Who the kriff are you?” he got out, before his head spun and he blacked out.


	5. Chapter 5

When Breha came to, she knew immediately she was not where she should be. She was leaning back, her arms and feet bound to the table. The room was dark, lit by just a low, red light. The air smelt strange, metallic and thick. She wasn’t on Takodana anymore.

At first glance, the room appeared empty, but that was because of how low the lighting was, and how still he sat. But Breha felt his presence, dark and tightly coiled like a pole-snake, waiting for an unsuspecting target. The shadows blurred his shape, making him appear enormous and small all at once. Breha’s eyes came to focus on the part she could best see, the silver visor of his helmet.

“Who are you?”

His voice was barely comprehensible through the helmet’s modulator, and Breha’s mind felt sluggish as she fought off the lingering unconsciousness.

“Nobody,” she slurred.

“If you are nobody, then how did you come by this?” The dark one held out the weapon, its blue blade inert once more. It gleamed in the red light and Breha desperately wished she could grab it and use it to escape.

“I found it.”

“Don’t lie!” He was on his feet and across the room in two strides, his mask inches from her nose.

“This saber belongs to _me_. Now tell me how you got it.”

Breha’s mind raced. It couldn’t be true. Maz had been so certain when she gave it to them. Surely she wouldn’t have handed it over, to return to the proper owener, if it truly belonged to this monster.

“If you won’t tell me—” A black gloved hand reached up and Breha felt pressure on her mind, just like before. Only instead of weight, it was as if something was stabbing her, twisting and plunging into her mind. Memories flashed before her eyes, all pertaining to the saber. She saw her fight, her wild, untrained swings. And she saw Maz holding the wooden box out to her and the moment she decided to take it. With a cry, she pushed the force away and was once more back in the interrogation room. The dark one stood a step back now.

“Maz,” he growled. “I should’ve killed that meddling old fool while I had the chance.”

“That doesn’t belong to you,” Breha spat.

“I have a greater claim than any over it. Now you’ve seen what I can do. I can rip the answers from your mind and there is nothing you can do to stop me and no pain I am not willing to inflict. But, if you are truthful, I will refrain. So, tell me, who are you?”

Breha wanted to resist. She felt she should. The dark one had terrorized her brother’s sleep for years, and for him to be standing before her was worse than anything she’d ever expected. But worse still would be for him to dig into her mind and find Bail. Breha didn’t think he knew about her twin, and she was determined to ensure it stayed that way.

“Breha,” she said at last. “I’m nobody. A scavenger, from Jakku.”

“Breha,” the dark one repeated. “A curious name. Family?”

Breha shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I was dumped on Jakku and left to die. I didn’t.”

“A survivor. Survivors are useful. Thank you for your cooperation, Breha.” He turned to go.

“Wait!”

The dark one’s fists tightened, but he turned back. “Yes?”

“Who are you?”

He pulled himself up, towering over her once more.

“I am Kylo Ren.”

 

Bail knew before he asked that Breha was not here with him. He could feel it, like an extra sense in his body. He’d always been able to know when Breha was near, and even sometimes what she was thinking before she said anything. He stood slowly, looking around the small quarters he’d been left in to rest. There was a sleep couch and a refresher, and a set of clothes neatly folded on the shelf. The clothes were a greenish-brown tunic and gray trousers that looked like it was a uniform of some kind. Wanting to take advantage of his solitude and peace a little while longer, Bail played with the controls on the refresher, eventually figuring it out, and had his first shower ever. It dried him off and Bail slipped into the new clothing. It didn’t quite feel right, but the fit was decent enough. The material was too thick, the fibers too fine. He cinched his own belt over his waist and pulled on his own desert boots with their soft soles. They were much preferable to the hard, black things left for him that looked like they would just as soon tear his feet apart as protect them. He combed his fingers through his damp hair before pulling it back and tying it with a thin strip from his old tunic.

Clean and with his head about him, Bail couldn’t put off leaving the quiet of the quarters any longer. He knew he had a few things to figure out and every moment he lingered was a moment that Breha was not with him. She could be growing farther and farther away that very moment. His hand came up to the door controls, but the door slid open before he could activate it. On the other side stood Poe, looking every inch the wing commander he was in his orange Resistance flight suit.

“Bail! You’re awake!” He pulled Bail in for a hug and Bail returned it awkwardly.

“Are you okay? We were really worried when you collapsed.”

“I’m alright. What happened? How’s your arm?”

“It’s fine. A few hours with a bacta patch cleared it right up. But you fainted. The medics brought you back to base. You had some cracked ribs and a concussion, but they took care of that.” He looked over Bail’s clean appearance and nodded approvingly. “You look a lot better.”

“Where’s Breha? Is she okay?”

Poe’s face fell and Bail knew that meant she wasn’t.

“You should come with me. The General wants to speak to you.”

Bail let Poe lead him through the base. Soldiers and pilots passed them, greeting Poe and giving Bail curious looks. Poe didn’t stop to explain, however, leading him into the heart of the base where activity picked up. Here, there were fewer stares. Everyone was too busy. Poe eventually led him to an unmarked door and knocked.

“Enter,” a woman called from inside.

Beyond was a simple office. There was a read-out on the wall, though what it detailed, Bail didn’t know. A gold protocol droid with a curious red arm puttered about the room and greeted Poe as “Commander Dameron” when they entered, but Bail didn’t care about any of that. His focus was looked on the woman who sat behind the desk. Looking at her now, Bail could clearly see it wasn’t some sort of time-travelling version of his sister. The cheekbones were off and the nose a bit different. But the similarity was striking, far too striking to ignore.

“Commander Dameron, thank you,” she told Poe. “Please, excuse us.”

“Of course, General,” Poe replied. He shot Bail a small, encouraging smile before saluting the General and leaving. No sooner had the door slid shut behind him did Bail blurt out the thought at the front of his mind.

“Who are you?”

The General smiled softly, sadly.

“Yes, I suppose that’s all that matters. I didn’t expect things to go quite like this. My name is Leia Organa. I am your grandmother.”

She said it so bluntly, a fact to be stated and nothing more. But Bail had spent many nights dreaming about a family. A mother, a father maybe who looked like him. When he’d been younger, he’d imagined that space pirates had attacked their ship and stolen him and Breha away and that his family was scouring the galaxy looking for them. As he’d grown up, those fantasies had been quashed by the reality of Jakku and the endless days of struggle and suffering. Breha was firmly of the opinion that nobody was looking for them and that they could only rely on themselves. Bail thought that if a family member ever did suddenly show up, Breha would’ve told them to ‘ _e chu ta’_. But deep in his heart, Bail had held onto the hope that one day they would find their family. And he had, but Breha was gone.

“No…” he whispered, the loudest sound he could make as his voice failed to cooperate.

“I beg your pardon?”

“My family _abandoned_ me to die on a junkyard,” Bail spat, his voice coming back with his anger. “My _sister_ is my family. My _only_ family.”

“Bail, I didn’t know you were there,” Leia insisted. “If I had, I would’ve come for you myself.”

“That’s a lie!” Tears burned his eyes and he scrubbed them away roughly. Tears meant weakness. Weakness meant death.

“I swear, I am not. I _named_ you! Bail, for my father. I would have _never_ left you.” She was up and around the desk and had him in her arms. He wanted to resist, to push her away, but he couldn’t. He felt so lonely and lost without Breha and her embrace was firm and promised safety; everything he missed in a mother was right here for the taking. He crumbled, overwhelmed and only able to let her hold him. After a few moments, he gained his legs again.

“What happened? Why were we there? Please, I need to know.”

Leia looked at him with sadness in her eyes. “I’ll tell you,” she promised, “I’ll tell you what I know, my sweet boy.”

They sat on the couch in Leia’s office and Bail listened as his grandmother told a story, long and tragic.

“Your mother and father were so young, and there was concern that they could not care for you and your sister,” Leia explained. “It was different then, a difficult time. The First Order was rising and I was frantically trying to assemble the Resistance. And then the New Jedi Temple was attacked and my brother, your grand-uncle, feared you and your sister would be a target because of who your family was. For your safety, you were taken into hiding with a trusted friend. But in route to the safehouse, the ship was attacked. To this day, we don’t know if it was the First Order, the Hutts, only that when the smoke cleared, you, your sister, and your guardian were gone.

“We searched for you, but I have to think that your guardian survived and hid you too well. Luke couldn’t even find your Force-signatures. After years, there was nothing else to do. The arrangement was for you to return when you turned ten, to begin training with Luke. Only, you never did.”

Bail swallowed around the lump in his throat, trying to process what Leia was telling him. It was so very different, and yet the same from what he’d came up with himself.

“You have a brother?” he asked.

Leia smiled fondly. “A twin. They run in our family. My brother is the Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker.”

“He’s real?” Bail clamped his hand over his mouth when he realized what he’d said, afraid Leia would be angry at him. But she seemed more amused than offended.

“Yes, he’s quite real, though some of the stories are a _bit_ embellished.”

“Where is he now?”

At this, Leia’s expression fell again.

“In hiding,” she said. “After the destruction of Luke’s academy, he felt it best to disappear. He took your mother with him, but we haven’t heard from him since.”

That was his next question. Where was his mother?

“And my father?”

“My son was destroyed in the attack on the academy.”

So the picture of the family Bail had wished for was impossible.

“What do we do now? Breha is missing. I know she isn’t here. I can feel it.”

Leia nodded. “Yes, I can feel Luke as well, though I imagine your perception is far stronger than mine. You and your sister are far stronger in the Force than I am. Almost as strong as your parents.”

Leia sighed, steeling herself. “Our intelligence has confirmed that your sister is currently being held by the First Order.”

It was as if the ground had dropped out from beneath his feet. His only anchor lay in his perception of his sister. He didn’t think she was in pain, but then they’d never been this far away from each other, ever.

“We have to get her back.”

“We will,” Leia promised. “We are gathering reconnaissance now and are planning a course of attack.”

“We can’t _wait_ that long!” Bail insisted.

“Running off to a First Order base with no entry or exit plan is tantamount to getting yourself killed or captured too. You might as well just hand yourself over to the First Order now, and then you’ll be in the same situation. If we’re going to rescue Breha, then we need to be smart. There’s a lot about the First Order we still don’t know.”

An idea struck Bail at her admission. “Finn knows! He was a stormtrooper. He was on Jakku, but he stowed away on the Falcon. But he knows everything about the First Order.”

Leia smiled at her grandson, a spark of pride in her brown eyes.

“I’ll make sure he is included.”

“And when you go, I’m going too.”

“I don’t think that’s such a good—”

“Nobody can find my sister like I can. And I’m not about to leave it up to anyone else. I’m going.”

“Very well. We’d best get you to the range for some target practice then. You’re going to need to be able to shoot if you’re going after the First Order. I take it Takodana was your first time with a blaster?”

“Yes,” Bail admitted sheepishly.

“Then we have our work ahead of us.” Leia smiled at him and Bail returned it. He was starting to feel a bit better about this whole “family” thing.

 

Breha wasn’t sure how much time had passed. There were no windows in the interrogation room. She’d eventually been released from the table and allowed to move around the room, but there was little to do but stare at the plain walls and sit. They’d brought her food twice and she’d dozed a bit, but without a chronometer or a view of the outdoors, it was impossible to judge how long the naps had been.

Kylo Ren had not returned. She’d been given her food by two stormtroopers who didn’t speak to her, or even acknowledge that she was a person. They set the food tray down next to her and hadn’t offered her even the simple courtesy of a refresher visit.

Mostly she sat and explored. A lingering vigor remained from the battle and she could clearly remember the power that had flowed through her when she’d broken out of Kylo Ren’s hold. It was like a deep stretch as she discovered some muscle, something in her that she hadn’t known about before. She sat with her eyes closed, trying to summon that power again, but it was hard. She’d reached out of necessity, but she wasn’t in any immediate danger right now. Her thoughts drifted to her brother. She thought she could feel him, distantly. He wasn’t here, thank Ashaa. And she didn’t think he was physically hurt, though she could feel his loneliness and worry for her. She felt it too. It was still hard to think of where they’d been, versus where they were now. A few days ago, their concern was in finding the right pieces to buy their portions so they could survive. And now they found themselves in the middle of a war.

 _‘Bail,’_ she thought, reaching out across the stars. She felt the soft response, reassurance. They weren’t going to leave her. Bail wouldn’t leave her.

Breha wrenched away from the connection as the door slid open. She expected the stormtroopers, perhaps with another meal. She didn’t expect Kylo Ren, his cloak missing, but that helmet ever present.

“Come,” he said simply and left with the door open behind him. Breha was stunned and wary. She was a prisoner, wasn’t she? Who escorted a prisoner by telling them to follow and then just walking away?

Still, Breha jumped at the opportunity to get out of the interrogation room. She expected the stormtroopers on either side of the door to stop her as she stepped out into the corridor, but they never moved. Kylo Ren had paused and was waiting.

“Follow me.”

They weren’t on a ship. Out in the corridors, Breha couldn’t feel the hum of a hyperdrive and they passed a wall of black rock. They were on a planet, at a base. Breha tried to remember the turns they made but she quickly lost count and the next corridor always seemed to be the same as the last. The door they came to was the same as all the others, smooth and gray durasteel. That seemed to be all the First Order used in the construction of their base. Ren activated the door and gestured Breha inside.

It was a bedroom, simple and spartan, but there was a refresher and a sleep couch. Breha froze in the doorway, every muscle tensing for a fight. She’d heard the stories around the outpost of the women who couldn’t find what they needed for portions, who never left on the off chance someone came along.

“Is there a problem?”

Breha jumped, stumbling and Ren reached out and grabbed her arm. She jerked violently away, breaking out of his grip.

“Don’t touch me! What is this?”

She couldn’t see his face, just that damned mask.

“These will be your quarters, for now.”

“I’m not doing _anything_ for you!”

Breha couldn’t see his face, but she saw the way his hands clenched and she heard his breathing grow heavier as if he were trying to restrain himself. She’d made him angry, and she was sure to pay for it.

“You are my _guest_ ,” he bit out at last. “You are not permitted to leave, but I see no reason for you to remain in the interrogation room, unless, you give me a reason to change my mind.”

“No,” Breha said quickly. She didn’t want to go back to the terrible chair and the monotony of the interrogation room. Even this simple space was better than that.

“Then I will return after you have freshened up. We have further things to discuss.”

The door closed behind him and Breha heard the locking mechanism engage. So she was absolutely still a prisoner, despite Kylo Ren’s words. But if she was still a prisoner, why would he put her in here? She thought she’d known, but Ren had left. He hadn’t forced her to…

“No point in wondering now,” Breha told herself. Her voice was strange in the emptiness of the room, but it was a relief to hear it over only the low hum of the atmospheric regulators.

When Ren didn’t come back right away, Breha began to relax. She explored the room and found a new set of clothing. Her thin scarf and tunic from Jakku weren’t enough to keep her quite warm enough. Breha had sat with her arms and legs pulled in, trying to conserve her body heat many nights as she shivered on the floor of the interrogation room. The plain, gray tunic and pants that were provided would serve to keep out the chill. She forewent the standard-issue black boots for her own. They were far more comfortable anyways. The fresher was the most glorious experience she’d ever had. As the hot water ran down her head and back, she felt warm for the first time since leaving Jakku and she was able to scrub all the grime from her skin, like the last fourteen harsh years were running down the drain. She was combing her fingers through her hair, pulling knots free when there was a knock at the door.

“Um, enter?”

The stormtroopers had arrived with her meal. They set it on a small table in the corner as Kylo Ren followed him in.

“Dismissed. Close the door behind you,” Ren ordered.

The peace of the fresher was gone as Breha watched warily from her seat on the sleep couch. She centered her weight, preparing for a fight if need be as her eyes darted between Ren and the mouthwatering tray of food on the table beside him. She’d gone without before, but she could smell the spices and _real meat_ instead of tasteless protein blocks. It was a siren’s call as her stomach grumbled so loudly she was sure Ren could hear it as well.

“Sit, eat,” he told her. Breha didn’t have to be told twice. She dashed for the tray, practically ripping the lid off, and barely had her seat before she was gnawing on some sort of spicy, savory meat. Breha eyed Ren as he sat down across from her, but didn’t stop eating. She knew better than to let any food pass her by.

“You will not starve here.”

Breha swallowed her mouthful, ignoring him as she dug in with her fingers.

“What do you want with me?”

“Tell me about Jakku.”

“It’s a junkyard, full of old Imperial ships. Some kind of battle.”

“The Battle of Jakku. Many would call it the Empire’s last stand. Were you born there?”

“Nobody is _born_ on Jakku. They are dumped there, like trash.”

“And you became a scavenger to survive.”

Breha shrugged. “It was the only way to eat.”

“When did you discover the Force?”

Breha frowned. She’d heard of the Force. You don’t live within wandering distance of Tuanal and the Church of the Force without hearing the stories. But until recently, that’s all she thought it was. Stories.

“It’s just a bunch of nonsense. Religious stories.”

Kylo Ren tilted his head slightly, but the mask was frustrating, hiding Ren’s expression.

“You and I _both_ know that’s not true,” Ren replied. “You are sensitive to it. You can feel it and even control it. I can teach you.”

Breha was certainly not expecting such an offer. She still wasn’t sure of any of this, and here, a monster she’d heard her brother speak of with terror for years was offering her what? The chance to figure out what this was? To learn how to control it? To protect her brother?”

“What do you want in return?”

“Your obedience. It is not easy to master the Force. But I can teach you, as long as you are willing to obey me.”

“I’ve never even seen your face. How can I trust a creature in a mask?” Breha demanded.

Ren stood up suddenly and Breha tensed, sure she’d gone too far. But, to her surprise, he reached up and Breha heard a hiss of air as he released the helmet’s seal. He pulled the helmet off and Breha gasped.

“Not what you were expecting?” Kylo Ren smirked. Breha was speechless. He looked like Bail. The likeness was uncanny, down to the black, curly hair, the firm jaw, except the eyes. The eyes were too dark.

Ren sat down again, setting his helmet on a free portion of the table. He watched her and Breha tried to force herself to look away, but she couldn’t.

“Are we in agreement, then?” Ren asked. His voice was deep even without a modulator.

Breha didn’t see any other choice. “Y-yes.”

 

Bail was becoming a pretty damn-good shot, according to Poe. It had been a few days since he’d woken up at the Resistance base and had his whole galaxy turned on its axis. In the meantime, he’d thrown himself into arms training and planning the rescue mission for Breha. He could console himself with the knowledge that at least she wasn’t in pain. He would know if she was; Bail was sure of it.

His grandmother was an entirely different matter. Bail wasn’t sure he would ever understand the giant that was Leia Organa. She commanded attention and everyone in the Resistance seemed to admire her and respect her. But in private, Bail couldn’t help but get the feeling she was very sad. She asked some questions during the dinners they had together, about Bail, his sister, the life he’d led to that point. Bail certainly wasn’t ashamed of the things he’d done to survive, but each story of hardship seemed to make Leia sadder.

On the third day after his arrival, Bail’s supper with Leia was interrupted. First they heard commotion in the hallway, raised voices and thumping of heavy footsteps. Bail looked to Leia, but the General didn’t seem concerned. If anything, she looked vaguely annoyed.

They heard the door to her quarters open.

“Sir, I don’t think—”

“It’s alright, I promise,” a man replied. A gray, grizzled man swaggered around the corner, a large, brown-furred alien behind him. He looked confident until the moment he locked eyes with Leia across the room.

“General, I’m sorry for the intrusion,” Leia’s aide, Lieutenant Connix said quickly, stumbling after the duo.

“It’s alright, Kaydel,” Leia assured the girl.

“See? I told you,” the man said as Kaydel nodded and left.

“I see you’ve returned.”

Bail was shocked to hear annoyance in the General’s tone. She’d been firm, but always patient and understanding.

“Got your message. Where is she?”

“In the private hangar. You can thank Commander Dameron. He found her.”

It took Bail a moment to understand they were talking about a ship. And not just any ship, but the Millennium Falcon. Which had to mean…

“You’re Han Solo!” Bail blurted out.

“Depends who’s aski—” Han’s eyes landed on Bail and whatever was about to come next was choked off. Han looked like he was seeing a ghost.

“Han, have you met your grandson, Bail?”

“ _Grandson?_ ”

“ _Grandfather?_ ” Bail replied, with just as much incredulity. Surely someone like Leia Organa wouldn’t be married to someone like…

“Wait a minute,” Han said. “I thought—”

“So did I,” Leia replied.

“But then—”

“Breha is alive as well. She’s been captured by the First Order.”

Her words hung heavily over the room. Suddenly Han’s swagger was gone. He collapsed into the chair across from Bail as the wookie who’d followed him in moved around the table and enveloped Leia in a big hug. Bail found himself watching his grandfather closely, but Han seemed to be trying to come to grips with something.

“I want in,” he declared at last.

“Plans are already in place.”

“Then change ‘em. There’s no way I’m sitting this one out.”

“Han.”

“ _Leia_.”

The wookie growled and grunted and although Bail didn’t understand him, Leia and Han sure did.

“Exactly,” Han agreed.

“What does _that_ have to do with anything?” Leia argued.

“What if they went with my team?” Bail asked.

The three all turned to Bail, having obviously forgotten he was there.

“Hold it. You were going to let the _kid_ go?”

“Bail is our best and fastest chance of finding Breha in the base.”

 “We still aren’t sure how to get through their shield,” Bail reminded Leia. “Mr. Solo is the best smuggler, and the Millennium Falcon is the fastest ship we have.”

“Don’t encourage him,” Leia groaned.

“Did you just call me ‘Mr. Solo’?”

“We should at least see what he can come up with.”

Bail felt strange, arguing between the two of them, but he wanted to bring Breha back, and that shield was a huge impediment to their plans. It would stop anything going sub-lightspeed without the proper transponder codes. With it still in place, they couldn’t even land on the moon, let alone get Poe and Black Squadron in to exploit its one weakness. Leia didn’t like it. Bail could tell in the way her jaw tightened and her rigid posture. He’d never seen her like this, and it seemed strange that her husband, ex-husband perhaps, made her like this.

But despite her own feelings, Leia Organa could recognize a reasonable suggestion and the first priority _was_ getting Breha back and destroying the weapon from the plans BB-8 had recovered. Leia would never forget as she was forced to watch the Empire destroy Alderaan and to bear witness to the deaths of billions, including her own father. She would _not_ allow it to happen again with Starkiller base.

“Alright. Commander Dameron will take you over the plans.”

Han grinned triumphantly. “I knew you missed me.”

Leia Organa actually rolled her eyes and Bail burst out laughing. He couldn’t help it. Who’d have thought two heroes of the Rebellion, legends to most of the galaxy, could be so…petty?

After supper, the rest of which Han and Chewbacca joined them for, Bail walked with them down to the war room. Poe was already there, uploading data from their most recent reconnaissance.

“Hey Bail,” Poe greeted him as they entered. “Han, Chewie.”

“Heard I have you to think for bringing back the Falcon,” Han said, clapping Poe on the shoulder.

“Bail helped too,” Poe shrugged.

“Barely,” Bail replied dryly.

“Yeah well, thanks. Now tell me about this new Death Star.”

Poe sighed but his fingers were already typing the commands to bring up their plans of Starkiller.

“I _wish_ this was another Death Star. Starkiller is a bigger and tougher nut to crack. As far as we can tell, its only weakpoint is Precinct 47, a thermal oscillator.”

“Thermal oscillator? How much power are we talking about?”

“Finn says it uses the power of the nearby sun,” Bail explained.

“And Finn is?”

“A stormtrooper deserter, stowed aboard the Falcon when we left Jakku.”

“ _Jakku_!” Han turned to Chewbacca. “I told you we should’ve double-checked the Western Reaches.”

Chewbacca grumbled back.

“Alright, so it’s big. And you’re going to bomb the thermal oscillator—”

“To create a power build up. Even if it doesn’t destroy the base, it will fry everything. They’d be back to square one.”

“Alright, so what’s the plan?”

“Black Squadron and two others will make alternating bombing runs and try to overwhelm them.”

“But they have a strong shield,” Bail added. “And it’ll keep anything sub-lightspeed from ever getting close.”

“We need to get a team onto the base to sabotage the shields so the fighters can make their bombing runs.”

“Well that’s easy then,” Han declared.

Poe and Bail blinked at Han in confusion.

“How is _that_ easy?” Bail asked.

“The shield stops anything sub-lightspeed, so we just have to come out of lightspeed past the shield, and we’re in.”

“To do that you’d have to jump directly into the moon’s atmosphere,” Poe said.

“And low too, because they’re bound to have scanners.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to do that,” Poe said, shaking his head.

But Han was grinning. “Then I guess it’s a good thing you have me now. Chewie and I will take the kid in on the Falcon. We’ll get the shields down, find Breha, and we can even set some explosives, give your bombs a helping hand.”

It was an answer to all the problems that had plaguing their strategy meetings thus far. But it relied heavily on Han’s ability to bring them out of lightspeed in precisely the correct position. Otherwise they’d be fried by the shields, or crash into the moon itself.

Suddenly alarms began blaring and the few controllers that had been monitoring everything leapt into action.

“What’s that?” Bail asked. “What’s going on?”

“Sir, they’re charging the weapon,” one of the controllers declared.

“I guess it’s time,” Han said.


	6. Chapter 6

Breha had spent far too much of the last few days sitting in silence. Though, to his credit, Kylo Ren sat across from her, equally silent. They were meditating. Kylo wanted Breha to become more aware of her connection to the Force so that she’d be able to access it more readily. And she certainly had become aware. As she sat across from him, she felt Kylo’s presence as an oppressive shadow. It was constantly writhing and shifting, a product of his strong emotions and passion. Breha had been surprised at how much he felt the first time he’d allowed her to probe his Force presence. He seemed cold, distant, but that was a result of his discipline. Inside he was…conflicted.

“To draw on the Force, you need to use that which drives you. Your anger, your passion. Those are powerful tools. They can bring you strength and allow you to bend the Force to your will. Then you have true power over it and you are truly free.”

Breha wasn’t sure about bending _anything_ to her will. But then she thought of her brother. She understood now that his nightmares had been visions, brought about by the Force. Perhaps, with a greater control, she could’ve kept them at bay. With strength, she could _protect_ him. So, despite her reservations, she explored her connection, watching as her emotions had an effect on the Force, just as it affected her. It was easy to draw on and Breha soon found herself bored. She risked opening one eye, but Kylo sat motionless, his eyes closed in his own meditation. He hadn’t worn his mask in her quarters since the first day. The more Breha saw him, the more she saw of her brother. The ears, they had the same ears, even if Kylo concealed his in his hair. Kylo was paler with a few moles whereas Bail’s face was tanned from the sun on Jakku. Bail was shorter too, but that was more likely because he was just fourteen.

“You’re meant to be _meditating_ ,” Kylo chastised.

“How did you become a Knight of Ren?” Breha asked.

“By obeying my _master_.”

“Finn said he was taken to be a stormtrooper as a child.”

“Do not speak to me of the traitor.”

“Sorry. Were you taken as a child?”

“No. I _chose_ this path.”

“Why?”

Kylo huffed in annoyance at her questions, finally opening his eyes.

“It hardly matters now. We’re finished.” He stood fluidly and Breha scambled to her feet.

“I want you to make yourself presentable this evening,” he said, gathering his helmet and cloak from the chair by the table.

“Why?”

“There is a…demonstration tonight. I intend for you to be at my side to witness it. I will collect you this evening.”

 

Within minutes, the Resistance base was in full mobilization. Leia and the rest of the Resistance command had been summoned to the war room while Poe and Bail had to prepare for the assault. Poe left him at the entrance to Black Squadron’s ready room and Bail had continued on to the armory. He grabbed a blaster pistol and holster, strapping it to his leg before plucking one of the thermal jackets from the store. He hurried from the armory, dodging pilots as he made his way down to the private hangar. Han was already there with Chewie and, to Bail’s surprise, Finn.

“I thought you didn’t want to go back to the First Order.”

Finn nodded. “I don’t. But you guys helped me get away, and you need someone who knows the way. I can help you get Breha back.”

“If we’re gonna do this, we have to go now,” Han called from the top of the landing ramp. Finn and Bail hurried on board, joining Han and Chewie in the main cabin. It was a surreal moment for Bail as he buckled into the seat behind Han. He sat in the cockpit of the Millennium Falcon with Han Solo.

 _‘Breha’s going to be so jealous,’_ Bail thought as they shot off into space.

 

Breha waited, pacing her room in a fresh tunic, her supper for once going uneaten. She felt nervous energy about the base, which was only growing the closer it came to when Kylo said he’d return. He’d provided her with a more fitted tunic, still in gray. Breha begrudgingly put on the polished black boots instead of her own and she braided her brown hair in a single, neat plait down her back. She looked over at the untouched meal, knowing she should at least _try_ to eat, but finding herself unable for the first time she could remember.

She felt his presence outside her door before the knock.

“Enter,” she called.

Kylo was in full Knight of Ren regalia, helmet on and hood drawn. He held a black piece of fabric in his hand, passing it to Breha. It was a jacket, falling to her knees, with a deep hood.

“It is snowing,” he replied to her expected question. Breha pulled the jacket on and then, to her surprise, Kylo Ren reached over her shoulders and pulled the hood in place, casting a shadow over her face.

“The fewer who can recognize your face, the more valuable you are to the Knights of Ren.”

“Is that why you always wear a mask?”

He ignored her question. “Stay a half step behind me. Do not speak to anyone.”

“What is this all about?”

She couldn’t see his face, but she could feel something. Anticipation. Whatever was going to happen tonight, it was sure to be big. And if it was big for the First Order, Breha had a sinking suspicion that it was going to be very bad for someone.

Platoons of stormtroopers marched in the same direction, though they made way for Kylo Ren. Breha stayed in his shadow, keeping her head tilted slightly forward, glancing out of the corner of her hood at everything. The stormtroopers marched in crisp formation, uniform in appearance and movement. It was disturbing.

Kylo led them up, taking a turbolift out of the lower levels of the base. When they exited, they were in a command center. Uniformed officers milled around, making some sort of preparation, and at the center of it all stood a man with fiery-red hair, looking down his nose at everyone. He turned as Breha followed Kylo up onto the overseer’s platform. His blue eyes looked at Kylo with loathing, but as he caught sight of Breha a flash of keen interest set Breha’s nerves on edge. Instinctively, she knew it was not to her benefit to be of interest to this man.

“Ren,” the man greeted Kylo.

“Hux.”

“And who is your… _companion_.”

It made Breha’s skin crawl, the way Hux said ‘companion’. By the way Kylo’s shoulders stiffened and the disdain Breha could feel through the Force, Kylo found his intonation just as repulsive.

“My _apprentice_ ,” Kylo replied.

“An apprentice? Does the Supreme Leader know?”

“It is of little concern to you, but yes. She is present at his request. Now, are we going to witness you ‘triumph’ or not?”

Kylo was baiting him. Breha could feel Hux’s own irritation at the way in which Kylo was referring to a project of Hux’s.

“We are charging the weapon as we speak. See for yourself.”

Hux pressed a button and the windows of the command room cleared. Breha had to cover her eyes at the intense light that burst through the tinted windows. A column of fire burned before them. She’d never seen anything like it before and it sent a chill down her spine. Whatever the First Order planned to use so much energy for, Breha knew it would not be good.

“What is it?”

She’d spoken against Kylo’s direct command. She could feel his anger, but the damage had been done. Hux reactivated the heavy filters before turning to her, fervor in his eyes.

“The ultimate tool of enforcement. A deterrent that can span the galaxy and which is unstoppable. With this weapon, the First Order will be able to crush its enemies with one blow. And today we start with the New Republic.”

 

They were nearly there. The proximity warning sounded and Han deactivated the safety alarm with a warning to “strap in”. They were coming in hot.

“Alright, let’s see what we got,” Han muttered just before they dropped out of hyperspace.

“Pull up!” Bail shouted and Chewbacca roared as the cliff face appeared in the viewport. Han wrenched up on the controls, missing the cliff. They crashed through a snow-covered forest, branches battering the Falcon.

“Aren’t you going to pull up?” Finn called from his seat behind Chewie. He was gripping the restraints with all his might.

“If we go any higher, we’ll be all over their scanners,” Han retorted. They burst through the tree line, a mountain rising before them. Han brought the ship down, skidding to a halt in the snow drift, just in the shadow of the mountain. They’d made it, against all odds.

“That went better than I expected,” Han commented as he unbuckled. Chewbacca growled his agreement as he slung a pack over his shoulder and hoisted his bowcaster. Bail was trying to catch his breath as he fumbled with his restraints. His hands were shaking and his blood was throbbing in his ears. Han noticed his struggle and reached over to flick open the buckle.

“Deep breaths, kid,” he murmured and Bail inhaled, forcing himself to let it go slowly. His heart wasn’t in his throat anymore and the shaking eased enough for him to check his blaster and fasten on his thermal jacket. Han and Finn had similar kits.

“Let’s go,” Han said. “Everyone’s waiting on us.”

It was bitterly cold and Bail pulled his hood tighter against the wind. He’d never been so cold and thought he much preferred the scorching heat of Jakku to this. They hadn’t landed too close to Starkiller base, for fear of their ship being found by a random patrol. The trek down the mountain to the base was miserable, but at least it was impossible to lose their way. The base was a beacon as the weapon pulled from the power of the nearby sun, a fiery column promising death and destruction.

Finn led them to the service entrance. They didn’t encounter any patrols, which Bail commented on as unusual.

“They’re gathering to witness its operation,” Finn explained. “For the First Order, this will be their ultimate triumph.”

“Yeah well, not if we can help it,” Han replied. “How far are we from the shield control room?”

At this, Finn hesitated and looked sheepish. “I—I’m not sure.”

Han turned on Finn. “What do you mean you’re ‘not sure’? You said you worked on this base!”

“I did,” Finn insisted. “As…sanitation.”

“ _Sanitation!_ Then how are we supposed to find the shield room?”

“I don’t know. We’ll—we’ll use the Force!”

“That’s not how the Force works!”

Chewbacca grumbled.

“Oh, you’re cold?” Han snapped at him.

“This won’t get us anywhere,” Bail interrupted. “We’ll have to get inside and figure it out. I’ve gone over the base’s plans dozens of times. I’m sure between Finn and I, we can find it.”

“And then how do you propose we shut the shield down? People are _counting_  on us. _Leia_ is counting on us!”

“I can do it,” Bail replied firmly.

“Oh really? How?”

Bail shot him a smirk, not unlike the first expression he’d seen of Han Solo. “I’ll use the Force.”

Inside, the base was quiet. Finn was right; everyone had been pulled to witness the activation of the weapon. There were minimal patrols and those they came across were easily avoided with Han’s skill of sneaking into places. Bail really didn’t know how they were going to find the shield room, but he thought if anyone was orderly and organized, it was the First Order.

“The shield control room is likely near their command bridge,” Bail murmured to Finn.

Finn nodded. “Makes sense. This way.”

The closer they came to the command room, the more stormtroopers and other personnel were in the corridors. It was becoming increasingly hard to avoid detection. They just rounded the corner when the door in front of them opened and Bail would’ve been caught if Han hadn’t the presence of mind to pull him back around the corner.

“Kriff,” Han cursed as they peered around the corner. For Bail, it was his worst nightmare in the flesh. The dark one stood with a red-haired general and a shorter, hooded figure. Bail could recognize his greatest boogeyman anywhere, but more than his appearance was his presence. Darkness crushed in on Bail, threatening to suffocate him. He was ten times stronger in real life than in Bail’s nightmares. Bail wanted to curl up in a ball, close his eyes, and try to shut the galaxy out, but he forced himself to remain standing.

“That’s General Hux,” Finn whispered.

“And Kylo Ren,” Han added, and Bail agreed with the dread in his voice.

“I don’t know who’s with them,” Finn said, risking a glance as the trio retreated down the corridor, away from their hiding place.

Bail steeled himself and peered around the corner. He could barely feel anything through the oppressive darkness of Kylo Ren. But something about the gait of the third person caught his eye. The careful way they placed each step, like the ground could suddenly shift right out from underfoot. Bail closed his eyes and felt for his sister. She was so close, now that they were on the same moon. He reached out to her and felt a reassuring nudge in return. He pressed harder, watching. The shorter figure suddenly halted and Kylo Ren stopped too..

“What is it?” he asked, his voice sending panic through Bail’s chest. He pushed it down when he felt the fear from his sister.

“Nothing,” the shorter figure replied and Bail knew.

“Breha,” he whispered as his heart sunk.

“Then _come_ ,” Kylo Ren retorted and they were gone with just one last little nudge from Breha and a warning that was the only thing that kept Bail from charging after her.

_‘Stay away.’_

 

Breha’s mind raced with the realization that not only was Bail on Starkiller, but he’d been there. Right there, practically within reaching distance. She didn’t understand how, but she knew why. He’d come after her. Part of her heart leapt with hope, but the much more rational side knew that there was nothing Bail could do that wouldn’t get him captured too. So even as she lied to Kylo Ren, she sent a very clear message through their bond, clearer than she’d ever tried before.

 _‘Stay away,’_ she told him. Breha couldn’t stand the thought of Kylo discovering her brother. She’d worked so hard to keep him away from that knowledge, out of a desperate attempt to protect Bail. And then the peedunkee had walked right into the nightwatcher worm’s pit.

Kylo was suspicious after her lapse, but he made a show of discussing the weapon with Hux. They spoke of the destruction of billions like it was the latest speeder model.

“I expect an explanation when this is finished,” Kylo warned her. Breha nodded once, not daring to argue in front of Hux. They stepped out into the cold and Breha was glad for her jacket as the bitter wind whipped her exposed skin and stole the very breath from her lungs. Stretching out beyond the platform were tens of thousands of stormtroopers. Breha couldn’t believe how many there were. And this was just at this base!

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Hux said, looking proudly at the culmination of years of work. It wasn’t the word that came to Breha’s mind, but she could begrudgingly admit it was impressive. Hux stepped forward to address the troops.

“Today will be a day long remembered!” he declared, his voice carrying over the silence. Not a single person moved, let alone whispered. Hux had only the wind to compete with. “Today is the end of the Republic. The end of a regime that acquiesces to disorder. At this very moment, in a system far from here, the New Republic lies to the galaxy, while secretly supporting the loathsome Resistance! This fierce machine which you have built, upon which we stand, will bring an end to the Senate, to their cherished fleet. All remaining systems will bow to the First Order and will remember this as the last day of the Republic!”

Breha saw the commlink flash at Hux’s hip, and the same for a number of the other officers around them. But nobody seemed to notice, enthralled by Hux’s hateful tirade. They were all caught off guard when a squadron of X-wing fighters burst through the clouds, cannons blazing.

“No!” Hux screeched.

Breha was wrenched off her feet, tackled as an X-wing dove, firing on the dais. Kylo Ren stood over her, saber alight as he batted away a new barrage of cannon fire.

“Get inside,” he growled, pulling her to her feet with the Force even as he repelled another volley. Below, the troopers were scattering, forming up under cover, but Breha could see a great many lay motionless on the parade field. A number of officers were the same, though Breha caught sight of Hux ducking back inside.

“It’s the Resistance,” Breha sid.

“Come,” Kylo ordered, taking her arm and dragging her back into the base. Alarms sounded and explosions rocked the base as the fighters bombed Starkiller.

“Hux and his incompetence,” Kylo snarled, still dragging her.

“Where are we going?” Breha demanded, but Kylo wasn’t indulging her this time. Suddenly he stopped and Breha looked around for the danger, but the corridor was empty.

“What is it?”

Kylo suddenly turned, growling through his mask. “Solo!”

The corridor pitched and they had to dodge a piece of falling ceiling.

“Han Solo? I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to.” Kylo opened a door, revealing a long-winged shuttle, the same one Breha had seen on Jakku.

“They’re going for the oscillator,” Kylo said as he roughly pushed Breha into the co-pilot’s seat and began powering up the shuttle. “It’s the base’s weakest point. The fool Hux let the Resistance gain the plans to the base and now he will pay dearly for it.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to _intercept_ them.”

_‘Bail, please do as I said.’_

 

The firefight to the oscillator was tense. It was clear the First Order was more than aware of their weak point and wasn’t about to give up the base without a fight.

“This isn’t working,” Han growled as he took down another stormtrooper. Chewbacca growled a warning before tossing a small, silver ball down the corridor. Bail, Han, and Finn ducked just before the thermal detonator exploded.

“You couldn’t have done that _before_?” Han snapped. Chewbacca shrugged.

They’d found the shield room, not far from command. Han had taken out the two stormtroopers with two quick shots and they’d slipped down the corridor to the door.

“It’s locked,” Finn said. He tried a code but nothing happened.

“Maybe now you should ‘use the Force’?” Han suggested dryly.

“Or we could use my splicer,” Bail suggested, pulling the device from his belt pouch. He’d seen it in the supply room one day and had slipped it into his pocket, just in case.

Han laughed, clapping him on the back. “Alright kid, after you.”

The splicer powered through the lock. The First Order liked control, but their internal security was poodoo, apparently. The room beyond didn’t just control the shields, but every other security system of the base. Bail’s eyes wandered over the controls, hoping for an easy, obvious option. No such luck.

“What now?” Finn asked.

“Keep an eye on the door and stay quiet,” Bail told him as he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He knew now that the intuition he was relying on wasn’t his own, but the Force. He moved to the console, his hands brushing over everything, looking for the echo of something. He could feel the lingering memories of the technicians and officers. He recognized the patterns and could just make out the intent behind them. The proper controls lit up, a trail for him to follow. He pressed the right buttons and the shields were deactivated. As a follow up thought, he found the automatic turret controls and deactivated those too. As Bail opened his eyes, a proximity warning went off. The Resistance had arrived.

“That should do it,” Bail declared. “I’m just not sure how to make sure they can’t reactivate it.”

Han rolled his eyes. “Stand back.”

Bail had barely moved out of the way before Han leveled his blaster and reduced the console to a smoking wreck.

“Problem solved. Let’s get out of here.”

They’d fought their way towards Precinct 47 and had finally made it, Chewbacca’s thermal detonators taking out the last of the guards. They stepped into a large space with multiple levels and a service bridge crossing a huge, round expanse that held the oscillator. The room was sweltering compared to the rest of the base. Bail looked up at the thick walls and supports in dismay. He could hear the distant thumping of the fighters’ bombs, but they weren’t putting a dent in the structure.

“Alright, let’s set the charges,” Han said. “Alternate every other column.”

Chewbacca protested and Han nodded.

“You’re right, that’s a better idea. You go up, I’ll go down. Detonator.” He handed it to the wookie for a sack of explosives. “Try not to blow the thing until I’m out of there.”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No way, kid,” Han said. “You and the janitor are gonna find your sister.”

“Alright,” Bail agreed quickly, anxious to find Breha.

“But you gotta promise my something,” Han added sternly. “If she’s with Kylo Ren, you gotta leave her.”

“I can’t leave my sister!”

“Kid, you’re no match for him. He’d slice you in six pieces before you could blink. If you come across him, you run. And you make sure he does,” Han added firmly to Finn.

“Yes sir, Mr. Solo, Han, sir.”

“Alright, go,” Han grumbled, rolling his eyes.

Bail and Finn doubled back and were glad to see that no new guards had replaced those they’d taken out. The base was clearly under evacuation orders as the Resistance bombing did further damage, dropping rock and other debris. The corridor they’d come through was collapsed, but Finn led them another way, doubling back around.

“So how are we going to find her?” Finn asked. “Are you going to use the Force again?”

Bail was having difficulty focusing on Breha’s presence, but he thought they were going in the right direction. She wasn’t inside the base anymore and as they burst out into the snow, Bail was following an unseen trail with Finn hot on his heels. It was taking them away from the base, deeper into the trees.

“Bail, where are we going?” Finn called, panting as he tried to keep up with the leaner boy.

“It’s not much further,” Bail shouted back.

“What’s not much further?”

They burst through the trees into a snow-covered meadow and Bail grinned as he spotted the thin figure, standing outside a shuttle.

“Breha!”

“Bail!” Breha dashed across the meadow, her hood flying back. Bail met her halfway and the two practically collided.

“You moof-milker! I told you to go!” Breha cried, clutching her twin tight.

“Like I’d ever listen to you,” Bail retorted.

“You should’ve,” Breha said, pulling back. “You have to get out of her. Kylo left, but I don’t know how long it will be before he returns.”

“Not without you,” Bail replied, gripping her hand. It was freezing. She’d been standing out in the snow and Bail wanted to draw her close again and chase away the cold.

Breha looked down at their hands sadly. Bail didn’t understand as she squeezed his hand and let go. He looked over the well-made clothes and the thick coat, remembering how she’d stood right by Kylo Ren, the monster of Bail’s nightmares, unbound and unguarded. He felt sick at just the thought.

“We need to go before they detonate,” Finn reminded him. “We have to return to the Falcon.”

“I—I think I’m supposed to stay.”

Bail’s fury rose. “What are you talking about? Did he steal your brain? This whole mission was about rescuing you! You’re not going to stay, you’re coming with us back to the Resistance!”

“I’m sorry, Bail,” Breha croaked, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. Bail could feel how much it hurt her. It echoed his own pain and betrayal. “I can’t explain, but I just feel like….I’m not supposed to go back with you. I need to stay with Kylo.”

“No!” Bail screamed. He swung his fist and a wave of energy burst from his hand, cracking a nearby tree and knocking Finn to the ground.

“Bail…”

“No!” he repeated. “I’ve found our family. Our grandmother and grandfather. It’s Han Solo, by the Maker! I won’t leave you behind with that monster!”

“He’s not a monster!” Breha shouted. “He’s—” but she wouldn’t say. Not now, not to Bail, not like this.

“He’s what?” Bail demanded, his voice low, challenging.

Breha sighed. “He’s my teacher.”

Bail staggered back and for the first time ever, he looked at his sister with horror. After everything, the dreams and nightmares, the years of hardship where it was just the two of them against the other scavengers, against Jakku, against the whole kriffing galaxy!

“No,” Bail insisted, his voice cracking. “Please, Brey, just come with me. We’ll find another teacher. We’ll track down Luke Skywalker, if you want to. _Anything_ else, just please Brey, come back with us.”

He held his hand out, pleading.

But he already knew her answer, and it hurt more than starving, beings stabbed, or falling down the turbolift shaft. It was as if he was being hacked in half by a busted vibroaxe, each blow worse than the next.

“How…sentimental.”

Bail stiffened, his hand flying to his blaster at the deep, metallic voice. He spun, already firing off shots, but Kylo Ren flicked them away with his crackling red blade. Bail dodged the bolts that came back his way, rolling and coming up firing like Poe had shown him. Breha had ducked behind cover, out of harm’s way and Bail could focus only on killing the nightmare before him. But none of his shots were coming close. Kylo Ren whirled his red saber, intercepting every shot, and when he grew bored of that, he deflected them with his palm.

“Give up, boy,” he growled. “You can’t win this fight.”

Bail grunted as he dived out of the way and fired off a few more shots.

“Yes, I can,” he growled through his teeth. But his time was running out, as was his blaster’s charge pack. Not only were his lungs burning and his body strained with fatigue, but Kylo Ren was closing the distance. With each block he stalked closer and Bail was smart enough to know that his only advantage was at a distance.

“Bail!”

Her shout distracted him, but it wasn’t Bail who paid the price. His shot went wide and Bail heard Finn’s pained scream as he crumbled, clutching his back. Suddenly the fight didn’t matter as he rushed to Finn’s side.

“Finn! I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Pathetic,” Kylo Ren spat. With a flick of his hand, Bail was picked up and slammed against the nearest tree. His head spun as he crumbled to the ground, coughing violently. Suddenly the ground pitched and Bail grinned as a column of smoke billowed over the tree line. The Resistance had succeeded.

“It’s over,” Bail rasped.

Kylo Ren didn’t seem concerned, even as the ground rumbled, the power of the sun trapped beneath the surface with nothing to contain it any longer. It super-heated the moon’s core and a crevice opened just in front of Kylo Ren. Engines roared overhead and the Falcon shot over the trees. The engine’s backsplash slammed into Kylo Ren, knocking him back as the ship touched down. Chewbacca appeared in the ramp and hauled Finn over his shoulder. He pulled Bail to his feet and they staggered up the ramp as Bail saw Kylo Ren climb to his feet, but it wasn’t on his nightmare that Bail was focused. Breha stood just behind him.

‘ _I’m sorry.’_

 

Breha watched the Millennium Falcon disappear into the clouds, taking half of her with it. The ground pitched and another crevice gaped open, forcing them back. The shuttle was on the other side. They were trapped.

“Go, jump,” Kylo growled. But Breha looked at the fiery maw, knowing it was too far.

“I can’t make it,” she insisted.

“Jump, trust me!”

Breha knew she shouldn’t, but she’d made a choice and there was no going back from here. She took two bounds and laughed herself over the chasm. Fire blazed below and she could feel the heat even through her thick boots. She wasn’t going to make it, but then she felt a push from behind, launching her higher and farther. Her feet hit the snow on the other side and she rolled with the impact, coming back to her feet to see Kylo follow. He leapt, flying high over the crevice, tucking at the apex and flipping to land in a solid crouch next to her.

“Go.” He grabbed her arm and steered her towards the waiting shuttle. The ground was pitching under their escape, cracks opening all around them. They dodged a falling tree, hurrying up the ramp and Kylo threw himself into the pilot’s seat, lifting the craft from the ground as it fell away to molten rock beneath them. Breha gripped her seat as the shuttle shook with their takeoff, but soon the atmosphere fell away to black space. Kylo entered coordinates and they jumped to hyperspace, safely away from the destruction. Without warning, Breha was slammed against the seat, the Force crushing her chest. Kylo Ren stood, his hand outstretched as he held her through the Force.

“You will tell me everything,” he snarled through his helm, “or I will rip it from your mind.”

 

Bail knew he should be happy and relieved. The Resistance had done it, destroying Starkiller and saving the Republic. But the _cost_.

It wasn’t just Breha. Chewbacca sat in the pilot’s seat and Han…Han was gone. He hadn’t felt it; he didn’t know his grandfather well enough. But Chewbacca’s silence confirmed everything. He didn’t know how it happened, but he mourned the loss nonetheless. Finn had been placed in the small med bay. Bail had covered his wound with a kolto patch, but Finn was still unconscious and Bail wasn’t sure if he’d wake up.

When they landed the hangar was filled with the Resistance cheering and clapping each other on the back, congratulating each other on an accomplished mission. But standing quietly in the middle of it all was Leia Organa. She watched the Falcon land, but Bail could already see that she knew. Like he would know if Breha died, nobody had to tell her.

They’d called ahead and the medics were waiting. They transferred Finn to a stretcher and rushed him away. Bail followed Chewbacca, hanging back as he watched. Chewbacca and Leia stood, just staring at each other for a moment. Then Chewie let out a mournful howl and wrapped the much smaller woman up in his long arms. In the middle of victory, they mourned.

When Leia pulled away, she spotted Bail, lingering by the landing ramp.

“Bail,” she called, gesturing for him. “Where’s Breha?”

He couldn’t say that he failed. He’d found his sister. None of their plans had entertained the idea that she might now want to come. He didn’t understand and he felt tired and hurt. And he didn’t want to betray his sister, even as she betrayed him.

“We couldn’t get her,” he said, his voice tight as he forced the words past the lump in his throat. It was a lie, but he couldn’t tell their grandmother that his twin had chosen the monster of his nightmares over him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. Bail couldn’t understand how she could focus on him in her own grief as she pulled him into her arms.

“I’m sorry about…” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say his name.

Leia sighed. “Han lived on the edge of danger all his life. It’s where he thrived. And now, he’ll finally have peace.”

“Excuse me, General.” Leia sighed, but turned to address the gold protocol droid, C-3PO.

“Yes, Threepio?”

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, but it seems R2-D2 is, to put it simply, awake.”

Leia’s eyes widened and she glanced around. “Commander,” she called as Poe was passing. “Take Bail to get something to eat, please.”

Poe noticed the urgency in her request. Bail didn’t understand why the news was significant, but he was a little annoyed that she felt like she had to pass him off to a babysitter. Poe nodded and Leia thanked him before hurrying off with C-3PO.

“You alright? No injuries?” Poe asked, glancing Bail over from head to toe.

“I’m fine,” Bail replied. He was a bit sore and would no doubt have bruises across his back, but he’d live.”

“Man I can’t believe we did it! Is Breha alright? Where is she?”

“She’s with Kylo Ren,” Bail replied darkly.

Poe stopped short. “You mean you didn’t—”

“We found her,” Bail admitted. He glanced around but the corridor they were in was empty. “She chose to stay.”

Poe’s expression flashed from shock to confusion to suspicion. “It’s Ren,” he growled.

Bail frowned, confused at his response. “I don’t understand. What are you talking about?”

“Kylo Ren can get into your head. He can see things, bring up your worst memories and confuse you. He uses it in his interrogations. He got to her, somehow.”

“But she didn’t want to leave.”

“He could be threatening her. Breha cares about you more than anything in the galaxy. It’s obvious, when you see the two of you together. If he threatened you…”

It still didn’t explain everything. They’d been there. Kylo Ren was nowhere in sight. And yet, Breha had stayed. They’d been able to leave Kylo Ren and the First Order to burn. Neither of them had wanted to get caught up in this whole business anyways. When they’d talked of leaving, they’d talked of living some quiet life of anonymity in one of the galaxy’s big cities. Right now, nothing sounded better, but Bail had begun to fear it would never be the case. He was the grandson of Leia Organa, General of the Resistance.

“Poe, I think I just want to go to sleep, if that’s okay.”

Poe nodded, understanding. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’ll let the General know.”

“Thanks,” Bail said as they arrived at Bail’s room. “And Poe?”

Poe paused as he turned to leave,.

“Please just, keep Breha to yourself? I don’t—” want her to be a villain. Breha wasn’t a villain. She wasn’t a monster. Bail maybe didn’t know what she was at the moment, but she wasn’t evil. Never evil.

“Don’t worry,” Poe assured him. “Between us, we’ll figure out how to help Breha.”

Bail nodded and entered his quarters. They were just as he’d left them, of course. Some part of him expected, well, something. Bail felt changed. He thought sleep would evade him, but as he stood in the fresher and cleaned away the smells and touches of the failed mission, he could barely keep his eyes open. He stumbled to his sleep couch in just his shorts and collapsed.

When he woke again, the chronometer said he’d been asleep nearly ten hours. It was almost evening again on D’Qar as Bail pulled himself up, scrubbing his eyes. The base had settled considerably. They’d struck a critical blow to the First Order, but the war was not won. Mechanics and technicians went back to their projects. Pilots were back on patrol. It was business as usual as Bail wandered the passageways. His stomach grumbled and his feet automatically turned him, not towards the commissary, but towards his grandmother’s quarters. It was close to the time they would typically sit down for a meal. But Bail hesitated as he recalled the scene in the hangar. He didn’t want to intrude if Leia just wanted privacy.

Bail was about to walk away and just eat in the commissary when the door opened and Leia stood on the other side, unsurprised to see him there.

“Bail, come in,” she urged.

“I can eat in the commissary if you’re busy.”

“No, there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

C-3PO was shooing a serving droid out as Bail sat down in his usual seat.

“How are you?” Leia asked as she sat down next to him.

“Tired,” Bail admitted. He hadn’t felt it on the mission, but now everything was catching up to him. His back and chest ached from Kylo Ren’s attack and he felt a bone-deep weariness like nothing he’d experienced before.

“That often happens,” Leia nodded. “I wanted to know if you discovered any clues as to where Kylo Ren might have taken Breha.”

Bail’s stomach flopped and he swallowed his food hard. “No,” he replied.

“We’ll find her,” Leia assured him. “The Knights of Ren never stay quiet for long, unfortunately.”

“Who is R2-D2?” Bail asked, hoping to change the subject.

Leia smiled. “He’s Luke’s astromech droid.”

“But I thought you said Luke was in hiding.”

“He is. He left Artoo behind, but he’s been in low-power mode since the attack on the academy. Artoo was damaged badly and so he didn’t go with Luke.”

“So, why did Threepio insist on telling you right away?”

“Because Artoo knows Luke’s location.”

Bail still didn’t understand, but the memory of their first meeting shoved to the forefront of his mind.

“My mother is with him.”

“She was when he left,” Leia confirmed. “I don’t know if that’s still the case, but even if she isn’t, I still think you should go to Luke, to receive training.”

“To be a Jedi.”

“Yes.”

Silence stretched between them. Bail didn’t really know if he wanted to go. Being with the Resistance was not something Bail had ever had in mind, let alone finding the long-lost Jedi master to be trained by him. The First Order, the Resistance, the Republic, it wasn’t his fight. He’d lived most of his life outside the purview of either. They didn’t mean anything to him. Except Breha was with the First Order. They’d been thrust into the middle of it all by virtue of who their grandparents were. And now they wanted to draw him in further.

He didn’t want to be a Jedi. But the fight with Kylo Ren had underlined what Han had told him. He wasn’t a match. Not yet. He needed what Luke Skywalker had, so he could become stronger. Kylo Ren was already strong. Bail’s back and chest were confirmation of that. Ren had been toying with him, slapping his shots away like a nerf with flies. If he was going to ever bring Breha back, he was going to have to kill Kylo Ren. And to do that, Luke Skywalker was his best chance.


End file.
